Who Said Life was Easy? - OLD VERSION
by hrhowling
Summary: BEING REWRITTEN. NEW VERSION HAS THE SAME TITLE
1. Prologue

**Hellooo!**

 **Yes, another fanfiction. Sue me.**

 **So, this little spawn of the devil involves spoilers, OCs, LGBT+, a particular ship that should be sunk and several tons of denial, resulting in certain characters still being alive. Examples include Anton Shudder and Ghastly Bespoke. Did I mention the sheer insanity that this story has, too?**

 **Also, I must warn you that there are multiple mentions of rape and abuse in this story (I am a sadistic writer who should not be allowed near the fate of any character), and a lot of swearing. You've been warned.**

* * *

 **Prologue - These Eyes be Damned**

 _Cursed eyes stared back at him from the mirror's surface. One was somewhat clouded, and slightly unfocused. That was but one mocking, constant reminder of the five and a half dreadful years he'd spent in that hellish gaol. He shivered. Even after six months of what he could only call blessed freedom, he was still haunted by the torment._

 _A gentle knock at the door caught his attention. "Come in," he murmured._

 _They came in silently, violet eyes glinting. "You alright?" they asked. "You've been awful quiet lately."_

 _He nodded. "Yes, I'm okay. Just… I've been lost in thought recently."_

 _"_ _We don't have to go, you know. The others would understand."_

 _"_ _You deserve to visit them. They're your family, and some of your friends have family there, too."_

 _"_ _So are you. And they're your friends, too."_

 _"_ _They were. But not anymore; not after what I did."_

 _They sighed sadly. "That was six years ago. People change, especially after something like what you've been through. Maybe it's time to make amends."_

 _"_ _Will they let me, though?"_

 _A shrug. "It's worth a shot. If they do still resent you, then I understand if you want to leave."_

 _"_ _I see. Let's hope it doesn't come to that, though. I don't want to spoil it for your friends."_

 _"_ _They're your friends, too, you know. They're your pack as well as mine, now."_

 _"…_ _Thank you… Thank you for doing this for me. I don't deserve this."_

 _"_ _That's what Skulduggery says when I say he should take back his family crest or some such claptrap. You good to go? Everyone's waiting outside."_

 _"_ _Yes, I'm ready."_

 _They smiled softly, and he returned it. One last look in the mirror at those damned eyes, and he was ready to go._

* * *

 **What do you think?**


	2. Chapter 1

**Here we go. I can't write dialogue.**

 **I'm too lazy to make a disclaimer, and you'd have to be pretty ridiculous to think I owned these guys apart from Clarity and their friends.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 1 – The Visitor**

Valkyrie laughed gleefully as her sister sprayed Tanith in the face. Seven years old, and she was a water fighting champion already. Alice was a wonderful little girl, she knew that; even before she'd returned to Ireland about a year ago. Her life was a lot brighter now that she'd found redemption. True, she'd never be truly free of the past, but that was her burden to bear.

"You're supposed to be on my side, traitor!" Tanith yelled when she saw Valkyrie laughing at her misfortune.

Valkyrie just grinned. "Doesn't stop me from-. Aah!"

Her dad had just tossed a water bomb at her. The cold water drenched her shirt, and plastered more of her hair to her scalp, making it get in her eyes so she couldn't see-.

"OH MY GOD!" she shrieked, as what may have well been enough water to fill a bathtub landed on her and Tanith. "SKULDUGGERY! THAT'S NOT FAIR!"

"Yay!" Alice cheered, jumping up and down. "We win! We win!"

"You're welcome," Skulduggery chuckled, as Alice performed her victory dance.

"No fair!" Tanith protested. "You weren't playing, so that didn't count!"

Skulduggery tilted his head; his way of smiling. "Alice seems to think otherwise."

"Skulduggery, can you dry me off, now?" Alice asked, looking up at the skeleton without the slightest hint of fear. "Please?"

"But of course." With a simple wave of Skulduggery's hand, Alice was completely dry.

"That's a handy talent for when you need to get to work in the morning," Desmond observed as he wrung out his shirt. Not all that much to his surprise, Skulduggery quickly dried it off for him.

"What about us?" Tanith demanded.

"What about you?" Skulduggery asked, his voice taking on a mischievous edge.

"Aren't you going to dry us off?"

"Don't you have towels for that?"

Valkyrie shook her head as Tanith fumed at the skeleton. She started for the front door, intending to dry herself off, when she realised that that had been done already. Looking at Skulduggery, she quirked an eyebrow in question.

"That was unusually generous of you," she said.

"You weren't complaining for once. I chose to reward you."

"You're ridiculous."

"Vally, I'm hungry," Alice said, tugging on Valkyrie's arm. She smiled at the little nickname that her sister had given her. "Can we go get something from the kitchen?"

"Sure, it's lunch time anyway. Dad, you coming?"

"What about your friends?"

"Skulduggery doesn't eat, and Tanith is too busy yelling at him."

"Fair enough."

* * *

Lunch was served, and the four 'Water Warriors', as Tanith had announced they now were, dug in eagerly. Melissa Edgely and Skulduggery just sat at the table and enjoyed the conversation.

Valkyrie enjoyed this part of her life. The mix of the mortals and the magical she had managed to bring together was comfortable and interesting at the same time. Her parents had come to accept that her life had taken a daring turn, and had in fact wanted to join her somewhat. Alice was just overjoyed that she got her own private look at the world of magic.

Ghastly came around at roughly one o'clock, finally finding some free time from his position as an Elder. Yes, he still did that, but he had managed to barter for extra time off as compensation for 'previous incidents'. He kissed Tanith, greeted Skulduggery and the others, then sat down and complained with Desmond about his job.

"So, Skulduggery," Ghastly said, leaning back in his chair. "Do you plan on visiting Clarity next week?"

"Hmm?" Skulduggery mumbled, raising his head.

"Who's Clarity?" Alice asked.

Ghastly continued, "Clarity's stopping by, didn't they tell you?"

"Oh, yes, they did. Must have slipped my mind."

"More like you were hoping I'd forget to ask, so you could sneak out of it."

"Hey."

Ghastly sighed. "When are you going to start acknowledging them properly?"

"Who's Clarity?" Alice asked again.

"Clarity is a relative of Skulduggery's," Ghastly explained.

"I never confirmed that," Skulduggery objected.

"They travel around the world quite a lot, so we don't get to see them very often."

Alice's eyes widened. "They've been all over the world?"

"More or less."

"That's so cool!"

"So where are they staying?" Valkyrie asked.

"Probably a campsite," Ghastly said. "They usually travel around with some friends."

"They can stay here, then. I don't mind."

"You sure? They can be a little… I don't know… odd. Even by our standards."

"Sure, the place is empty enough, anyway."

Ghastly and Skulduggery nodded. "We'll call them, and let them know," Ghastly said.

"We?" Skulduggery enquired.

"They're your responsibility."

"Hmm… fine, when you put it that way."

* * *

"So what's the issue with you and Clarity?" Valkyrie asked later, after everyone else had gone home. "In fact, who on earth are they?"

Skulduggery muttered something under his breath. "During the war, Serpine attempted to play God," he explained. "He created a cryptid; a creature with the essence of a werewolf, a vampire, and some other dangerous creatures; as a weapon of war. Not only did he use those creatures, he used my own blood, along with his to make it human enough to understand orders. It was also an attempt to spite me."

"So Clarity was the cryptid," Valkyrie concluded.

"Yes. Clarity Veil. However, they were apparently 'too human'. They weren't the perfect abomination Serpine had wanted, so he abandoned them. The Dead Men and I found them, and we took them in; tried integrating them with society. It worked."

Valkyrie nodded. "Wow. That's disgusting. Resurrecting Serpine and beating him to a pulp all over again seems like a lovely scenario."

"Indeed."

"You don't seem to have the best relationship with them, though. Why's that?"

There was an icy pause. "They brought back too many bad memories. It made me bitter, and they caught on. Things just grew pretty tense between us after that, particularly after they started travelling."

"Maybe now would be a good time to make amends then," Valkyrie suggested.

"Maybe. They'd like you, you know. You're clever and interesting; qualities they appreciate in people."

* * *

 _A Week Later_

True to their word, Clarity and her friends arrived within the week on a cold Friday afternoon. Valkyrie was sat in a chair by the window when she noticed the five RVs driving into the clearing in front of the manor. They looked sturdy and well-travelled, no doubt able to sleep two people; maybe three if you put a sleeping bag on the floor or someone was willing to sleep in the driver's seat.

"Hey, is this them?" Valkyrie asked, catching the attention of Anton, Dexter and Ghastly, who had come over with the rest of the Dead Men to see Clarity. Tanith would be coming over in the evening.

"The parade of RVs?" Skulduggery enquired. Valkyrie nodded. "Yes, that's them."

"You weren't kidding when you said they like to travel. Those RVs look like they've been all over the world."

"They cross paths with me every now and then," Anton said. "They present good company for my guests."

"Let's go say hi," Saracen said, putting down the book he was reading and getting up. Everyone followed suit.

Each RV appeared to be unique to whoever lived in it. One had swans, crowns and dogs painted on the side, another had a multitude of green eyes with blue irises along with some sea creatures, a third was just covered in swirling, multi-coloured patterns, and the fourth looked as if it was often used as a whiteboard of sorts, judging from the amount of spray painted doodles and notes done in marker pen. The fifth and final one had an elaborate black flaming wolf in a tribal design on it, and since the Dead Men were heading straight for it, Valkyrie figured that that was the one Clarity resided in.

Dexter marched up and knocked on the door loudly.

"Just a second!" called an androgynous voice from inside. The blend between male and female caught Valkyrie off guard, but she did note the strong confidence in the voice that she found in Skulduggery's.

"I'll get it," muttered a quiet, but definitely male voice. They sounded familiar…

The door opened, and everyone was taken aback by the sight that met their eyes.

Traitorous gold eyes stared back at them.

* * *

 **I'm pretty sure we all know what's coming next, despite not having Saracen Rue's mysterious power.**


	3. Chapter 2

**The only reason I'm pumping out these chapters so fast is because I am already 14 chapters in with this story. I just haven't had the guts to publish it until recently. Here we meet the mysterious Clarity for the first time.**

 **There's a little cameo of a certain Irish YouTuber here. Cookies to anyone who knows about the guy.**

 **And thanks to 'DeadGirl19' for the review. Glad you like the story so far, I just hope you don't hate me after the next few chapters come up.**

* * *

 **Chapter 2 – Guess Who's Back**

Erskine Ravel stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable and eyes emotionless. _Strange,_ Valkyrie thought, _the left seems clouded._ He was pale and sickly, the light blue turtleneck he wore – the collar of which he was fiddling with – hung from a frame that was thinner than what was normal and his dulled brown hair was unkempt, flopping over his eyes.

"Erskine?" Ghastly asked disbelievingly.

A bitter smile met the traitor's face; one that did reach his eyes, but only revealed regret and self-loathing. "The one and only," he proclaimed spitefully. "So who wants the pleasure of beating me up first?"

"What's going on?" asked the androgynous voice from earlier. Its owner quickly joined Erskine at the door.

"Clarity," Skulduggery began. "Care to explain?"

Clarity turned out to be of similar build and height to Skulduggery; looking roughly twenty years of age. Their pale face was effeminate, defined by a strong jawline, high cheekbones and almond-shaped eyes with irises the colour of amethyst, oval pupils and obsidian sclera, all framed by short, choppy, raven black hair. Around their neck was a purple-and-black neckerchief, which complimented the black shirt and dark blue jeans they wore, and a jet black metal brace encased their lower right arm. Flittering shadows danced over its gleaming surface.

"What's to explain?" Clarity asked. "Didn't China tell you? Erskine was placed into my custody six months ago."

Icy silence was all that they needed as an answer. "I guess not," they muttered. "Come inside, if you don't mind."

Saracen nodded. "Good idea."

Everyone piled into the RV and found a place to sit or stand. Erskine had retreated to the passenger seat in the front.

"Okay," Skulduggery said. "One of you had better start explaining what's going on, or else I'll-."

"Clarity got me out after witnessing a certain… incident when they visited me at the gaol," Erskine quickly said. "They appealed to take custody over me, and Grand Mage Sorrows complied. They… kept it private because they didn't want anyone to try going after me."

"I trusted her to tell you," Clarity continued. "Seems I put too much faith in her."

"Is that why you delayed your trip to Canada?" Anton asked.

Clarity nodded. "I wasn't leaving him there any longer. And before any of you ask; no. I am not obligated to tell you why."

The quick nods from most of the Dead men told Valkyrie that Clarity wasn't to be argued with.

The cryptid turned to her, an apologetic smile on their face. "Well, this is hardly the first impression I had been hoping for," they said, holding out their hand. "It's Valkyrie, right?"

Valkyrie smiled and shook the offered hand. "That's me. And don't worry about that. Something tells me you're not one to be judged from first impression alone."

"That's true. First impressions do tend to be tossed out of the window with me."

"So I've heard."

After proper greetings were given, everyone exited the caravan, intending to meet the remainder of Clarity's band of travellers.

Erskine hung back, quickly entering the bathroom to check himself. After satisfying himself with the fact that his appearance did not reveal what had happened to him whilst remaining presentable, he exited…

…to find Anton waiting for him.

Fear rose in his gut, but he swallowed it down and looked Anton in the eye. The steely grey irises betrayed no emotion.

"If you're going to beat me into the ground, then get it over with," he whispered, looking away.

Anton was silent for a moment. "The last time I saw you," he began. "You had your arm in a sling, a limp and bruises on your neck. Not only that, but you looked about as half-starved as you do now. You refused to say more than one syllable to me at a time, and if I raised my voice even slightly, it was as if I'd threatened to let my Gist loose on you. You changed there, Erskine. But I don't know how or why."

Erskine shook his head. "What's it matter to you?" he asked, bitterness tainting his tone. "Why the hell do you care?"

"Because through all you've done, you were my friend once. And believe me, I'm not one for sentiment, but part of me wants to try to bring back the friend you once were."

Anton didn't receive a reply, and was instead passed by as Erskine wordlessly exited the RV.

* * *

Valkyrie had set up a buffet for her guests, and when Tanith arrived (she was none too happy about Erskine being there), it turned into a party. Or at the very least a dance competition. So far, no one had managed to best Tanith, but Jack Septic-Eye; a human/anthropomorphic jackalope hybrid who possessed the powers of an Empathy Stirrer had managed to hold his own longer than anyone else.

Erskine had remained on the side lines of the social get-together, choosing to sit in the corner and slowly eat the sandwich he'd picked up from the table. Valkyrie's dog, Xena, had padded over at some point, and sat down next to him.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Startled by the sudden appearance of the Skeleton Detective, Erskine jumped. "Oh… Skulduggery," he muttered. "Listen, I don't want any trouble, okay?"

"You'd better not. Otherwise I won't hesitate to lay you out on the floor."

The fear in Erskine's eyes surprised Skulduggery. "I-I…"

"I don't want your excuses."

"I know."

"Shut up. If I get even the slightest inkling that you are betraying Clarity's trust, then I will make your life a living hell."

Erskine simply nodded, and relaxed as Skulduggery finally turned and left. Xena seemed to notice his discomfort, and placed her head on his knee, allowing him to stroke her. He felt sick, the unwanted wave of memories resurfacing and forcing a sickening bile to rise up his throat, but he managed to swallow it down before he did actually vomit.

He hadn't recovered as well as he'd thought…

* * *

 **The plot thickens... Like soup! *shot for the bad joke***

 **So, yeah. Erskine's alive, but he's still a traitor.**


	4. Chapter 3

**People are most certainly going to hate me after this. Like I said; I'm a sadistic writer who shouldn't be allowed near the fate of a character.**

 **Thanks to LionsandTrolls for the review, and I'm so happy that you like Clarity. Yes, I refer to Clarity as 'they' on purpose. They have female anatomy, but do not identify as female.**

 ***hands you skull-shaped cookies* And congrats on identifying jacksepticeye. He's got one or two more appearances later on.**

* * *

 **Chapter 3 – Running from an Illusion**

The soiree continued until ten pm, and by then, the dancing competition had worn out even Tanith. Everyone (except Anton, who had left at half nine) quickly decided that it would be best if they stayed the night at Edgely Manor. Most of the guests picked out a guestroom, Erskine and Saracen had opted to sleep in the living room on the couches.

It was probably around two am when Saracen was woken up by movement in the room. Inching open his eyes, he noticed Erskine hurriedly getting dressed, his face contorted in panic for some reason. He remained still until the gold-eyed man had left the room, before getting up and pulling on his own clothing.

He snuck into the main landing and observed Erskine pulling on his jacket and slipping on his shoes, before testing the door. Valkyrie had left it unlocked by accident, it seemed, because the handle slid down without a hitch, and Erskine immediately exited the house. Saracen followed suit – after putting on his own coat and shoes of course – and remained in the shadows, planning on staying undetected until he figured out what was going on.

Saracen trailed Erskine as he hurried down the road leading from the manor to Haggard. He noticed how the man seemed to put on a burst of speed every so often, and he kept looking around warily. So far, he hadn't seen Saracen.

Being the mage he was, Saracen knew that Erskine was scared of a possible pursuer, but apparently it wasn't him.

"Keep going, keep going," he heard Erskine begin muttering at some point. It was also now that he noticed how the man kept stumbling, and that his breathing was harsh and panicked.

It was at the outskirts of the woods surrounding the Edgely Estate that Erskine's knees suddenly buckled beneath him. Saracen remained hidden, wanting to know what was going on. Much to his surprise, Erskine more or less broke down crying on the ground for a few seconds before he pulled himself to his feet and carried on towards the town. It was a painstakingly long walk, but Saracen followed Erskine all the way to Haggard.

Erskine carried on to the harbour, and stood at the end of one of the piers, shivering slightly. Saracen decided that now was the time to confront him.

"Erskine? What are you doing?"

The mage spun round to face Saracen, gold eyes brimming with terror, hands clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Without warning, he dropped to the floor, the hollow _'thud!'_ of his knees against wood making Saracen wince.

"I'm sorry," Erskine whimpered fearfully, head bowed in submission. "I… I don't know what got into me."

Saracen frowned. "Were you intending to meet someone here?" he asked, keeping his voice level.

 ** _No, he wasn't,_** muttered the voice in his head that knew things.

"No," Erskine mumbled. "I… I don't think so."

 ** _They hurt him. You were just too oblivious to see it. Now he runs because he's scared that his rescue was just an illusion._**

"Erskine," Saracen continued. "Are you… running from something?"

Erskine nodded. "I'm a bloody coward."

 ** _They destroyed him, and you did_** **nothing** ** _!_**

Slowly, Saracen walked over to Erskine, pausing whenever the mage looked about ready to bolt. Once he was right in front of him, he knelt down and lifted Erskine's head to meet his gaze.

Haunted eyes stared into him fearfully. Saracen had seen eyes like that before. Forty years ago, he'd come across a woman with the same terror and hopelessness in her eyes. He'd offered her a coffee at a café he'd liked, and she'd told him her story; for two years, she'd been raped and beaten by her abusive husband.

When she was done, she took a pistol out of her purse, placed the barrel against her temple, and pulled the trigger. Someone had screamed, and Saracen – splattered with her blood – had stared at her corpse in shock until someone had shaken him out of his trance. That had been the first time he'd broken down into tears in front of a stranger.

He'd asked to keep the bullet. He kept it as a reminder to never let anyone else suffer how she had.

 ** _You failed…_**

Gently, Saracen traced the dark shadow beneath Erskine's left eye; the clouded one. He felt Erskine shiver beneath his touch, and withdrew his hand.

"I'm so sorry, Erskine," Saracen breathed. "I am so, so sorry."

He didn't get a response. Instead, Erskine just stood up and walked to the end of the pier where he sat down and let his legs dangle over the edge. Saracen joined him.

"Do you know what it's like?" Erskine asked as he stared over to the horizon.

Saracen shook his head. "No. But I met someone who did. A nice girl who just got away from her husband. I offered them a coffee, and they told me what happened…" He tailed off for a second as the memory was dragged kicking and screaming to the surface. "She… she shot herself. Right in front of me. I didn't even manage to ask for her name…"

"I… I'm sorry to hear that."

"I'm sorry I didn't realise what was happening to you. I would've gotten you out if I had."

"It's not your fault. I deserved it."

" _No one_ deserves that, Erskine. No matter what you did, you didn't deserve it."

Erskine didn't object. He was too lost in his own thoughts. "The ocean looks really pretty tonight," he murmured.

"It does, doesn't it?"

"You know; I thought I'd recovered pretty well these past six months. Turns out I haven't. I'm still scared of everyone."

"Why?"

"The warden… would batter me to a pulp if I stepped out of line. Then everyone else followed suit. I was the gaol's punching bag."

 _His voice cracked when he said 'warden',_ Saracen observed.

"At first… at first it didn't bother me. But then, he…"

"He took it too far," Saracen finished for him.

Erskine nodded. "Every day," he whispered, his voice shaking. "It was always one thing after another, and…"

Tears started streaming down his face, and Saracen reached out to wrap his arm around the man's shoulders, but Erskine flinched, and he refrained. The tears were quickly coupled with sobs, and Erskine brought his knees up to his chest and cried into them.

"It was horrible," he choked. "I just felt so disgusting, I-." He couldn't say any more, as he completely broke down. Heart wrenched by Erskine's pain, Saracen wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close, gently rubbing his back in an attempt to reassure him.

"Erskine, it's okay," he whispered. "You don't have to think about it anymore. Come on, calm down."

Erskine kept weeping uncontrollably for another five minutes until his sobs dwindled into small gasps. Eventually, even those stopped.

"Better?" Saracen asked, releasing Erskine from his hold.

Erskine nodded and took a deep breath, wiping the dampness from his eyes. "Much," he croaked. "We should… we should go back."

"Good idea. It's three in the bloody morning."

* * *

They more or less ran back to the manor. When they got back, they both went back to the living room and went back on the couches, hoping to get at least one more hour of sleep before everyone else woke up and turned the living room into a social hub.

Saracen fell asleep pretty quickly, but Erskine lay awake, unable to let himself succumb to the depths of slumber. He hadn't told Saracen about the insomnia he suffered from, or the fact that he needed medicine to help himself get any sleep at all.

The insomnia hadn't even been a result of his treatment at the gaol. The war had done things to him, and sleep hadn't provided much solace. It got worse after Darquesse. He'd always be too scared to go to sleep, lest he wake up in absolute agony. He knew he was being ridiculous, what with the homicidal goddess being long gone, but he couldn't help it. That torture had scarred him almost as much as the gaol had.

Shivering, he turned on his side and curled in on himself, trying to ignore the ghostly feeling of steel-toed boots that slammed into his ribs and the last remnants of that never ending torture.

 _Why does it still hurt?_

* * *

 **Please don't kill me. *hides***


	5. Chapter 4

**Here comes a tearful flashback and a panic attack. Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 4 – Undeserved Forgiveness**

 _The proud, stubborn leader of a failed revolution had entered the gaol. A shaking wreck that could barely stand was guided out five and a half years later. Bandages covered him head to toe; a large swathe of them covering his left eye; his right leg was in a cast, he was severely underweight, and there was a terror in his eyes that almost brought Clarity to tears. However, they refused to let the floodgates open. It wouldn't do to break down in front of him._

 _"_ _I promise, I won't rest until you're better," they vowed as they half walked, half carried him out of the gaol._

 _Erskine was silent as he limped along the pathway leading out. His bloodshot eyes were lowered to the ground, and his legs were trembling._

 _"_ _Erskine? Is everything okay?"_

 _"_ _M' fine," Erskine mumbled._

 _Clarity frowned, but kept leading him towards the RV. They'd left their friends at the campsite, not wanting to worry them by taking them on a road trip to a notorious Irish gaol._

 _"_ _You'll like the company I keep," Clarity said. "They've got their quirks, but then again, so have I."_

 _"_ _Hmm… seem like your kind of people."_

 _In the RV, Erskine sat at the table whilst Clarity took the wheel and drove off. The freed convict stared at the shrinking shape of the gaol, and as it finally disappeared from view, he felt his eyes stinging._

 _They stopped by a shop so Clarity could grab some supplies. When they came back, they found Erskine slumped on the table, sobbing uncontrollably. Dropping the shopping bags, they rushed over to the distraught mage and immediately sat down next to him, unsure of what to do._

 _"_ _Erskine? Erskine, what's wrong?"_

 _Erskine just continued to weep, tears streaming unhindered down his face. The display wrenched at Clarity's chest, and they carefully coaxed him into an embrace. At first, he tried to squirm away, but eventually, he collapsed into a shivering wreck in Clarity's arms, desperately clinging to them like a lifeline._

 _"_ _Th-thank y-y-you," he choked. "Thank you s-so much!"_

 _Clarity sighed and stroked Erskine's hair tenderly, nuzzling him occasionally. Erskine was completely destroyed; the fierce, honourable mage he'd been during the war had been battered down to this vulnerable cub who needed all the protection that the world was refusing to give him._

 _"_ _You're family," they whispered. "Family protects each other. Come on, we need to get back."_

 _Erskine let go of them and allowed them to get up. Clarity gave his shoulders a reassuring squeeze before heading to the driver's seat and starting up the engine._

I meant what I said, Erskine, _they thought._ I _will_ help you. I don't care what any stuck-up skeletons say; you're family, and I intend to protect you.

* * *

Dexter came down to the living room to find Saracen still asleep on the couch. Erskine was awake, pulling on the same turtleneck from yesterday. However, he wasn't quick enough to conceal the tapestry of fresh scars on his back before Dexter caught a glimpse of them.

"Let me guess," he muttered, startling Erskine. "Prison fights."

Erskine looked away. "Umm… yeah," he mumbled. "Yes, I… I got into fights… that's why… that's why, um… the scars…"

Dexter snorted and rolled his eyes. "Typical." Without another word, he turned on his heels and left for the kitchen. A few seconds later, Erskine followed after him.

"Dexter, I-."

"Forget it, Ravel."

"I don't expect you to forgive me," Erskine said quickly, stepping in front of Dexter. "Ever. I just want you to know I'm sorry. I always was."

"Do I look like I care?"

Erskine shrank back, but stayed where he was. "Please, I don't want to fight. Not any more. I'm tired of fighting you."

"If this is what you call an apology, then it's not working."

"Like I said; I don't expect you to forgive me. But… it would mean the world to Clarity if you at least tried. And it would mean even more to me. Mostly because I know I don't deserve it."

Dexter frowned. He had him there. Clarity was like a niece to him; he'd do nearly anything for them.

"Out of my way, Erskine," he growled, noting the way Erskine's eyes widened in terror before he scurried out of the way.

 _Jesus Christ, what's gotten into him?_ Dexter thought bitterly as he entered the kitchen. Clarity was already there with Valkyrie, frying bacon and toasting bread. A jug of freshly made coffee was waiting in the coffee machine.

"Morning," he grunted as he poured himself a mug of the steaming beverage. Valkyrie, too focused on the bacon to pay much attention, mumbled something unintelligible in response. Clarity's attention was caught by Erskine.

"Did you sleep okay?" they asked, walking over and gently checking him over, inspecting the dark circles beneath his eyes.

"Up until two in the morning, then Saracen and I went on a walk," Erskine replied quietly.

"You should have come to see me after you got back."

"I didn't want to wake you."

"You know a few minutes of sleep lost doesn't bother me. For you, every second counts."

"Since when was Clarity Erskine's mother?" Valkyrie hissed in Dexter's ear.

The Dead Man just shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

At that moment, Saracen walked in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "Morning," he mumbled. "Everything alright?"

"Yep," Clarity said bluntly as they handed Erskine a vial filled with a silvery blue liquid. He took it and replaced the empty one that hung from a cord around his neck with it.

"What's that?" Saracen asked.

"Sleeping draught," Erskine muttered, tucking the vial beneath his jumper. "It's not amazing, but it stops me from looking like a meth addict with anemia."

"You have insomnia?"

Erskine nodded silently. "It's been a big problem since Darquesse."

Saracen's frown deepened. "Oh. So… not because of the gaol."

"Mmhmm."

"I'm hoping to get something more effective whilst I'm here in Ireland," Clarity explained, handing a box of eggs to Valkyrie. "Canada didn't provide much, but then again, we didn't travel too far, so there's a lot I may have missed."

They looked like they wanted to say more, but Erskine interrupted. "Do you need any help with breakfast?" he asked.

Dexter rolled his eyes. "Someone call the fire service," he muttered.

"Mind taking some plates into the living room?" Valkyrie asked. "And some knives and forks?"

* * *

After breakfast, Clarity and her friends spent most of the day in Haggard, seeing what the town had to offer, which wasn't much in Valkyrie's opinion. Tanith and Ghastly went home, and Dexter and Saracen also returned to their apartments in Roarhaven, but intended to spend the evening at Edgely Manor.

So late that evening, Dexter, Saracen, Clarity and the older members of their group were enjoying some champagne that Joutsen; a flier with the ability to manipulate water; had bought earlier that day. Skulduggery and Valkyrie were absent, having left to sort out a case China had given them. Chances were that they wouldn't be back for the rest of the night.

Erskine had somehow managed to doze off without the aid of his sleeping draught. He was slumped across an armchair with his legs hanging over one of the armrests, and his chin rested on his chest. A small paperback book had fallen from his hands to the floor.

Dexter; partially drunk as he was; was more than tempted to scare him into wakefulness. He was just about to do that when Erskine started getting restless, and the expression on his face was no longer so peaceful. He started whimpering fretfully, kicking his legs and twitching. The whines escalated into quiet cries of 'no', and the weak twitches became violent jerks as he tried to get away from some horror that pervaded his dreams.

Clarity quickly noticed, and was immediately on their feet, walking slowly towards Erskine. They looked worried and more than a little cautious, but didn't seem too unfamiliar with this behaviour, leading Dexter to believe that this was a regular occurrence.

The moment Clarity reached out a hand to shake his shoulder, Erskine's eyes snapped open, terror etched in every detail of his face. He screamed, threw his hand up, and the cryptid went flying, smashing into the wall with a loud _'thump!'_ They grunted in pain, but the speed at which they recovered proved that no damage had been dealt.

Dexter didn't seem to care. In his intoxicated state, he was livid.

Erskine scrambled backwards, inadvertently overturning the armchair he was in. It didn't stop him from backing into the corner like a wild animal, arms raised defensively and looking at everyone as if they were going to kill him or worse.

"Don't… don't touch me," he begged weakly, tears welling up in his eyes. "P-please."

He shivered violently when Dexter rose to his feet and stalked towards him threateningly. Energy flared in his palm, and he intended to send it on a straight course to Erskine's face.

"Big mistake, Ravel," the Energy-Thrower growled. He was just about to let the blast fly before Saracen got in his way.

"Dexter, don't," he ordered, placing a firm hand on his friend's chest.

"Why the hell are you defending him?!" Dexter snapped. Behind Saracen, Erskine had curled up into a ball and was shaking uncontrollably. "He betrayed us, almost got us killed, ran away from Darquesse, and-."

"He was also raped and abused for five and a half fucking years," Saracen stated harshly. "I'd say it's time we tried forgiving him. He deserves that at least."

Dexter immediately sobered up, shock plastering his face. "You're… you're joking," he said.

"Am I?"

Whilst the two Dead Men stared each other off, Clarity had rushed over to Erskine, who had his head buried between his knees and was crying pitifully.

"Erskine?" Clarity ventured, inching towards him. "Erskine, it's okay. Please, calm down. I'm not angry at you."

Erskine continued to tremble, and when Clarity wrapped an arm around his shoulder, he desperately tried to scramble away. After a few words of consolation, he did eventually let himself be pulled into the cryptid's embrace. By now, all of Clarity's friends were looking at him with sympathy. Jack (despite being one of the more drunk members of the group) was clearly sending out calming vibes for the man's benefit.

Eventually, Erskine's panicked breakdown came to an end. He relaxed, and his breathing steadied, but he still had his arms around Clarity's chest and his head was still rested on their shoulder. Dexter was staring at him in shocked worry.

"Oh, God," he breathed. "Oh, God, Erskine…"

The mage in question didn't attempt to respond. He just stood up, straightened out his turtleneck and walked out, mumbling something about getting some sleep in the RV. After a short while, Clarity followed after him, not bothering to finish off their drink.

Sobered by the incident, their friends slowly trickled out as well, leaving only a still stunned Dexter and a sour-faced Saracen.

"You going to cut him some slack, now?" Saracen demanded.

A dumb nod was his only answer.

"Good. I'm going to bed. You get to sleep on the couch tonight."

* * *

Erskine was lying on the bed when Clarity came in. He looked up at them with tired eyes that barely concealed a crippling fear within them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered as Clarity sat down by his feet.

"It wasn't your fault," they said assertively. "Fear does a lot to people."

Erskine sighed and sat up, rubbing his eyes. "I thought I was doing so well."

"You're around people who want to batter you to a pulp for what you did; hardly what you're used to after six months of me playing mother hen."

"I guess you're right."

"You should get some sleep. I'm going for a walk."

"Okay. I'll see you in the morning, then."

A few minutes after Clarity left, Erskine pulled out the vial of sleeping draught from around his neck. Tipping his head back, he downed the dose in one gulp, feeling the sweet liquid slide down his throat. Once it reached his stomach, the bittersweet aftertaste hit his taste buds, and he grimaced weakly.

Moments after swallowing, his eyelids felt heavy and there was a fuzziness in his head that was something akin to whenever he had too much alcohol to drink. Lying back down, he didn't bother to pull the sheets over him or get changed out of what he was wearing, simply curling up and closing his eyes.

He hoped he didn't have more nightmares tonight…

* * *

 **Wow, you're still here? Thanks! I didn't expect anyone to stay! Let me know what you think.**


	6. Chapter 5

**I'm not all that great at fight scenes, but I did my best. Hope you like this chapter.**

* * *

 **Chapter 5 - Mishap of the Void**

Skulduggery was peeved.

In fact, he was more than peeved. He was fuming! Just as he, Saracen and Dexter were going down to the Caves of the Void to search for Gracious and Donegan (who got lost down there, yet again), the latter two both decided to let _Erskine_ tag along. Of all people!

So whilst he took the lead, the other three Dead Men were trailing behind him. Skulduggery didn't like these caves, and it was not just because of the inevitable peril and crap-ton of monsters. Whenever he was down here, Vile got very… agitated… Today, he was particularly violent towards the bars of his cage, repeatedly hissing in the back of Skulduggery's mind and lashing out whenever even the slightest sound was heard. For some reason, there was a hint of… worry? ... within his twisted ramblings.

They'd followed a trail of symbols that had been drawn on the wall with chalk; clearly left by Bane and O'Callahan; for half an hour when the trail ended abruptly at a T-junction.

"Dammit," Skulduggery cursed as he raised his flaming palm higher in the hopes of the extra light revealing more symbols; thus the direction in which the two Monster Hunters had gone. "It's ended."

"It looks like there was a fight," Erskine mused, walking toward the cave walls. He accidentally brushed past Skulduggery when he did so, and although the Skeleton Detective didn't react, Vile's persistent prodding halted, and the monster let out a low growl of… contentment..?

Skulduggery shook his head. Was everyone going stark raving mad?

"Look at these scorch marks," Erskine continued. "They're new. And only an Energy Thrower could make those sorts of burns. Then there's the claw marks," he pointed to a set of gouges in the wall. "We ought to follow them."

"Sounds like an idea," Saracen agreed. Beside him, Dexter nodded. Skulduggery simply grunted, and reluctantly followed the trail under Erskine's guidance. Smears of blood were found here and there, and Skulduggery began considering the odds of the two Monster Hunters having bumped into a pride of Phalanx Tigers.

It wasn't long before they heard running footsteps. Tensing, the four Dead Men got ready for a fight when two men rushed past them.

"You should run!" Gracious barked as he charged in the opposite direction of where the Dead Men had been headed. Looking back, they saw two Phalanx Tigers racing towards them with a rabid hunger glinting in their eyes.

Heeding the advice of Gracious, they all ran for their lives, but not before Skulduggery hurled up a wall of air for the beasts to smash their faces into. He couldn't hold it up for long, though, and pretty soon, they were snapping at his and Erskine's heels. For some reason, Vile was screeching in urgency for him to _do something_ , a phenomenon he'd never done before. Vile was never this frantic unless he wanted to kill something.

"What are those things?!" Dexter yelled, wildly tossing a bolt of energy behind him in the hopes that it would hit something. It struck the smaller of the two monsters, and it stumbled a little, before carrying on in the same relentless fashion as before.

"Phalanx Tiger!" Saracen shouted in reply. "We should just keep running!"

"That's what I'm doing!"

Erskine glanced behind him, and saw that the Phalanx Tiger was dangerously close to catching him. He was at the back of the group, clearly unused to fleeing for his life.

"That's our trail!" Donegan shouted, pointing to the chalk symbol on the rock wall. Everyone turned into the tunnel, but the creatures followed suit, and one of them managed to hook its claws onto the hem of Erskine's trouser leg and tripped him.

Erskine fell to the floor with a heavy _'thud!'_ , grunting when his chin smacked the hard rock. The animal snarled and jumped on top of him, snarling and drooling on his back, the hot spittle spattering the back of his neck.

"Erskine!" Saracen yelled, skidding to a halt. He rushed back to help, but was tackled by the other one.

Erskine was frozen in place, his breathing harsh and eyes wide with terror. The talons of the creature ripped into the leather of his jacket and grazed across the marred skin of his back, making him shake uncontrollably. He was helpless, he was going to die, he-.

A rush of air passed over him, solidifying into a wall that sent the creature smashing into the wall. He didn't see Dexter sending the other one flying with a well-aimed and dangerously powerful bolt of energy, instead, scrambling back against the cave wall and trembling like a leaf. He was back in the cell. It was dark, and his back hurt and bled and-.

"Erskine! Erskine, what's wrong?"

Saracen? What was Saracen doing here?

"Erskine, talk to me," Saracen pressed, taking hold of Erskine's shoulders and shaking him gently. "Come on, it's okay. You're safe now."

"N-no," Erskine whimpered, trying feebly to get out of Saracen's hold. Tears were streaming, unbidden from his eyes. "Please, no. Don't… don't do this to me, please…"

"Erskine, you're okay," continued Saracen. "You're safe. Come on, snap out of it."

He carried on trying to calm Erskine down whilst the others battered the creatures to pulp. Eventually, Erskine broke out of his panic attack and relaxed into Saracen's arms; still shaking, but in control of his thoughts.

"You okay, now?" Saracen asked, helping Erskine to his feet. He received a hesitant nod as a reply. "Good. What brought that on? Did that thing hurt you, or..?"

"It… it just…" Erskine mumbled incomprehensibly, still in a state of shock from the attack. "It was on top of me, and…"

Saracen nodded grimly. "I understand," he said, pulling Erskine close to his chest and rubbing the back of his neck gently.

Skulduggery watched the display with carefully masked confusion. In the back of his mind, Lord Vile was muttering bitter insults at him.

 _'_ _That should be you.'_

 _'_ _Since when did you care about someone other than yourself?'_ was the silent reply.

 _'_ _For as long as you have.'_

He didn't know how to respond to that.

"Hey guys," Gracious interrupted, looking a little more than bemused. "Hate to interrupt the bromance there, but… I think we should go before the doggies wake up."

There was no need to voice agreement. The group started following the symbol trail, at a more cautious rate this time.

They'd barely gotten two feet before the long awaited disaster struck…

Skulduggery noticed it first; a shadowy shape with two gleaming dots flashing from its frame.

"Look out!" he yelled, tensing as it rushed forward. Vile screamed.

 _CRASH!_

A flash of light. Pain. Skulduggery screaming…

Black.

* * *

Erskine woke up coughing on dust and covered with rubble. There was an ache in his abdomen that made him feel ill, and he spent several moments retching quietly until the discomfort subsided.

"Urgh," he groaned. "G… guys?"

No response. Struggling to his feet, Erskine looked around worriedly. Darkness obscured his vision, so he did the natural thing and summoned a flame in his palm. It cast long shadows along every surface, but he could discern a human figure lying on the ground next to him.

"Saracen?" he ventured, bending down and shaking his friend's shoulder gently. Eventually, Saracen woke up, groaning and rubbing his head.

"What… what happened?"

Erskine smirked good-naturedly, despite the dire situation they were in. "I thought you were meant to know that."

"Shut up," Saracen grumbled as he stood up, looking queasy and pale in the light of Erskine's flame. "I feel sick."

He promptly threw up, the watery remnants of his breakfast splattering on his boots. Erskine just grimaced and rubbed his back gently to help ease Saracen's sickness.

"Better?"

"Eh… Yeah, I think so. Where are the others?"

"I'm not sure. Oh, wait. What's that?"

"Ow!" Gracious squawked. "Jesus Christ, don't step on me!"

"Oops. Sorry."

"You'd better be," Gracious mumbled as he got onto his feet. Dust coated him, but he was otherwise unscathed.

"Come on," Saracen muttered as he straightened up. "We need to find the others."

Erskine nodded, and immediately started wandering around in search of the others. He found Donegan on his feet and looking around confusedly, and Dexter curled up in a ball and groaning in discomfort. Saracen told him to carry on looking for Skulduggery whilst he tended to the blond Energy Thrower.

After five minutes of worried searching, Erskine heard soft whining in the corner. It sounded like someone in pain.

"Skulduggery? Is that you?"

Inching forward, the light in Erskine's palm managed to reveal a torn, bloodstained suit and…

"Oh, god. Skulduggery!"

* * *

Valkyrie jumped when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Taking it out, she saw Skulduggery's number and answered.

"Hello?"

 _"_ _Valkyrie?"_ Saracen's crackly voice enquired. Bad reception.

"Saracen? What's going on? Why are you using Skulduggery's phone?"

 _"_ _We're stuck in the caves beneath your house. There was a cave-in. Mind coming and getting us?"_

"You mean to tell me you're also lost?" Valkyrie deadpanned, catching the attention of Clarity, who was talking to Valkyrie's parents about her trip to Tibet. No, they did not find any dragon goblins, so please stop asking, Desmond.

 _"_ _Yes."_

"Then I probably will have to spend ages searching for you."

 _"_ _Oh, yeah… Um… Is Clarity there? They could track us, being part werewolf and all."_

Clarity seemed to have heard that, because they were muttering, "So I'm a bloodhound, now, am I?" in good-natured annoyance. Then they turned to Valkyrie. "Tell him I'll be down in those caves in half an hour," they said. "At most."

 _"_ _Well?"_

"They'll be down in half an hour at most," Valkyrie explained.

 _"_ _Thank you. Mind bringing some Cleavers or Sanctuary operatives? We've… come across something… not sure what to make of it…"_

"What are you going on about?"

 _"_ _I wish I knew… My power really likes to piss me off at times like this…"_

* * *

They were down in the caves in twenty minutes, thanks to a blessed absence of traffic. Once in there, Valkyrie flicked on the torch she'd picked up.

"So, where'd they go?" she asked.

"One minute," Clarity said. A curtain of shadows suddenly reared up around them, and when they receded, Valkyrie exhaled in surprise at what she saw.

A colossal black werewolf, the size of a dire wolf when standing on all fours, stood where Clarity had been. Thick, glossy black fur covered it from nose to tail tip, and Clarity's necromancy vessel encased its lower front leg. A short, choppy, glossy black mane crested the back of their neck and their head, framing their lupine features the way it did their human features and the light purple rings of its irises glinted back at Valkyrie.

"Wow," Valkyrie breathed. "You really are part werewolf."

"It dominates the vampire and possible Faceless One in me," the wolf muttered, lowering its snout to the cave floor. "And Serpine. Did I mention him already?"

"No. Did I ever tell you that I want to break his limbs off?"

"I don't think so. Serpine thought it would be funny, I guess. Neither of them made good parents, to be honest, but at least Skulduggery made a bloody effort. True, he ignores me half the time, but what can you do? I swear he forgot I existed for a while after he met you."

"Oh. Sorry."

"It's okay. He stopped complaining to me every chance he got."

"And instead chose to complain to me."

"Thank you for that."

"…You're just as infuriating as him, you know that?"

"Glad to know that. Now, where… aha! Let's go, I've got the scent."

Clarity picked up the pace, stopping only briefly to observe a chalk symbol that had been drawn on the cave wall. "This was made a while ago," they said. "I don't recognise the scent, so it was probably Bane and O'Callaghan who made it. They smell like sweat and cheap aftershave; maybe that's just because they've been down here a while."

Valkyrie nodded, and continued after the wolf, shining her torch down the tunnel. They kept going until they heard voices arguing. It was around this point when they noticed signs of the cave-in mentioned by Saracen.

"So you mean to tell me that you have no idea what's happened." Dexter. Definitely Dexter.

"Yes, that's exactly what I'm telling you!" was the retort, clearly from Saracen. "I don't know _everything_."

"What's happened this time?" Clarity muttered under their breath. Trotting along the tunnel, they and Valkyrie turned the corner to see Saracen and Dexter arguing, Erskine with a flame hovering over his palm, looking between the two of them with an exasperated expression, and Gracious and Donegan searching around for something.

"Valkyrie!" Gracious cheered, turning around and nearly smacking Donegan over the head with the big gun he was carrying. "And-. Holy mother of God! What is _that_?!"

Clarity snorted indignantly and turned away with a huff. They marched over to Erskine and pressed their head against his chest, whining expectantly. Erskine didn't look surprised at all, and rubbed the back of their neck gently.

"We're fine," he said. "I think…"

The black wolf pulled away, a questioning look adorning their features. Erskine gave them a worried expression and pointed towards a man who lay on the floor nearby. He was drenched in blood, and wore the tattered remains of a well-tailored suit.

"Who..?"

"I don't think you'd believe us if we told you."


	7. Chapter 6

**Here we go! This roller coaster ride is just getting to the good stuff!**

 **To LionsandTrolls: Damn, I was hoping to surprise people. Oh well. Beggars can't be choosy. And hopefully Skulduggery is hot enough for you. Just don't get burned *is promptly shot by Skulduggery*.**

 **How take your damn chapter and leave me to die in peace. Exams are a more terrible killer than Lord Vile/a pissed of Skulduggery.**

* * *

 **Chapter 6 – C'est la Vie**

When Skulduggery woke up, he couldn't move, his head ached, there was an excruciating pain in his chest and his legs felt as if there were several dozen knives stuck in them. Everything he heard was distorted and echoing in his skull, clamping a vice over his head, and whenever he tried to look at something, it triggered stabs of pain in his eye sockets, as if he had eyes there and they were being stabbed out.

And he couldn't move. Did that cross his mind already? He couldn't remember.

 _'_ _Something's wrong,'_ Vile muttered quietly.

 _'_ _I think I got that, you dumb-ass.'_

"...ulduggery?"

Skulduggery flinched, growling in discomfort. He recognised the words but the voice was still ringing painfully.

"Are you okay?"

He recognised that voice. It was Ghastly's. Sounds were clearing up a little, now. He tried to answer, but his ability to speak had deserted him, and all that he could manage was a 'wonderfully intelligent' grunt. Damn, even that hurt.

"Shut up, you," a woman snapped. Synecdoche. "We still don't know what to make of this yet and you may hurt yourself."

If Skulduggery had a face, he would have frowned. What was wrong with him? He tried speaking again, and this time he managed to croak out a small 'What..?'

Synecdoche sighed. "What did I just tell you?"

"If I may, Doctor," Ghastly offered. Skulduggery's vision was still a mess, so he couldn't see any of the looks that may have passed between his friend and the doctor. "Skulduggery, something happened in the caves; a magical surge of sorts. It hit you hard, and... The outcome came as a shock to us all."

Skulduggery tensed. This wasn't good.

"Ah, ah, ah," Synecdoche barked. "Relax, or you could end up hurting yourself."

Okay, now he was actually quite scared. "What happened?" he rasped.

"Try sitting up," Synecdoche instructed, as if he'd never said anything. "Do it slowly."

Thoroughly worried, Skulduggery obeyed. It hurt like hell to move, and it took a lot of willpower not to let the pained groan that was rising up in his empty chest escape him. He felt Ghastly grip his upper arm to help him, and when he was finally sitting up straight on the hospital bed; overwhelming pain shot through his mind. Groaning, he lifted his hand to clutch his head.

Fingers intertwined with long, messy hair...

Skulduggery froze, but relaxed when he came to a conclusion.

"Very funny, Ghastly," he croaked. "Putting up my facade, hehe... hilarious..." He lowered his hand to his collarbone, brushing against flesh that didn't recede...

"Skulduggery, that's... not your facade..." Ghastly said quietly. "Like I said... it was a shock to all of us."

Skulduggery was shaking, his mind in suddenly turmoil as he tried to comprehend what was happening. Air was rushing from his mouth, and his shoulders were rising and falling rapidly. "S-stop... stop messing around..." he growled weakly. "That's not... that's not..."

"Pleasant," Synecdoche said, her tone firm. "Calm down."

 _The facade only covers my skull and neck,_ Skulduggery thought frantically. He brought his hand to his abdominal area, hardly prepared for the hard, wiry muscle beneath the hospital gown that met his grip.

"N-no," he stuttered harshly, denial flooding his being. "No. No, nononono..."

"Calm down, Skulduggery," Ghastly reassured, placing a hand on Skulduggery's shoulder, only to recoil when the once dead man flinched violently at his touch.

"I... I n-n-need a-a m-mirror," Skulduggery stammered. He literally stammered; his words slurred and messy. Synecdoche nodded, handing him the small handheld mirror that she kept in her pocket. He took it, his flesh-covered hands shaking uncontrollably to the point that he almost dropped it, and looked at his reflection.

Wide, panicked eyes stared back at him, the deep purple irises mere slivers around pinprick pupils.

A high, strangled sound escaped his lips, and he fainted.

* * *

Erskine looked up from where he was sat with Valkyrie, Tanith, Saracen and Dexter; alerted by a strangled, half scream half moan coming from the closed off ward where Skulduggery was. It sounded like a dying dog, and the others must have heard it too.

Worried, they all got up and walked over, only to be stopped by Clarabelle.

"Sorry," she said, determination replacing the wistful look that usually filled her eyes. "I can't let you in. Only one visitor at a time; Doctor's orders."

"Clarabelle, please," Valkyrie insisted. "I need to see what's wrong. That's our friend in there."

The girl; who's hair had been died pink today; shook her head. "Only one visitor," she repeated.

Saracen sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "Okay, then," he said.

Moments later, Ghastly's head poked out of the ward curtain. "He fainted," he stated, worry glinting in his eyes. "Clarabelle, Doctor Synecdoche wants you to check the Pups for her. They've started to wake up."

The strange girl grinned happily at the mention of the three little patients, and skipped into the ward. Everyone's eyes met with Ghastly's.

"Mind if we come in?" Valkyrie asked. "We won't cause any trouble."

Ghastly considered it, waiting a few moments before speaking. "I'll ask Synecdoche," he said. "It might do him some good to see some more familiar faces."

He retreated back into the ward, and hushed voices were heard. A few minutes later, he reappeared and nodded.

"Keep quiet," he murmured. There were nods of consent, and came into the ward. Valkyrie went first, then Clarity and Erskine, followed by Saracen and Dexter. Tanith hung back, just outside the curtain.

Lying on the bed closest to the entrance was a tall, long-limbed-but-not-lanky man of around thirty, with long, tangled, dark blonde hair, high cheekbones and a strong, square jaw. The hospital gown he wore hung loosely over a frame that was clearly too thin to be healthy. His eyes were closed, and his pale face; which bore several faint scars; was creased with stress.

"Please refrain from crowding him," Synecdoche requested; her tone clipped and formal. Everyone obeyed, not wanting to risk the doctor's wrath.

After ten minutes of fretful waiting, the blonde man finally stirred, a harsh groan escaping his lips. It was Skulduggery's voice, but it was hardly the velvety tones that anyone was used to. He blinked awake, revealing almond-shaped eyes with amethyst irises. Eyes like Clarity's.

Sitting up, the man rubbed his eyes, still groaning. When he was fully awake, he looked at the group with a defeated expression on his face.

"I wasn't dreaming, was I?" he asked, voice still harsh, and a little hesitant. Nothing like the Skeleton Detective's. "I-I'm really..?"

Ghastly nodded, a half-hearted smile gracing his scarred features. "You're alive, again," he said. "And actually alive this time."

Valkyrie wasn't entirely sure how she'd expected Skulduggery to react to having his living, breathing body back. Half of her had predicted an angry outburst, the other half had expected him to be happy.

She wasn't expecting him to curl up into a ball and shiver uncontrollably, looking for all the world as if he was going to burst into tears.

Frowning, she walked up to him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Skull?" she ventured, unsure of what to say. This was completely unfamiliar territory for her.

Skulduggery lifted his head to look at her, eyes glimmering wetly.

"Okay, who are you, and what've you done to Skulduggery Pleasant?"

A harsh, throaty laugh escaped Skulduggery's lips, and a smile met his eyes. "He went on vacation," he joked weakly. "You're stuck with the shivering wreck until he remembers to come back."

Valkyrie smiled, glad she was getting somewhere. "I guess I'll have to send a postcard."

After five minutes of the same repetitive exchange of banter, Synecdoche swooped in. "I'm afraid you'll have to leave," she said. "Visiting hours are almost over for now, and I need to run some final tests. You can come back in the afternoon."

There no protest, and the visitors vacated, leaving Skulduggery alone.

Skulduggery wasn't a man to feel fear, yet he couldn't help but feel very scared in this insanely new position he'd found himself in, and for some reason, that same fear was lurking in the back of his mind where Vile resided.

It seemed they'd have to figure this out together…

* * *

After a sequence of thorough physical examinations, Skulduggery was given a bowl of liquidised vegetable soup to eat, because Synecdoche didn't think his stomach could handle solid foods yet. She was proven to be more than right, when five minutes after he'd swallowed the first mouthful, he had his head in a bucket as he emptied the contents of his stomach into it. He spent the next half hour in that position as he repeatedly dry heaved and trembled feverishly. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face, and his skin was dry and hot to the touch, raising concern from the doctor.

"You'll have to stay in for a few days. At least until you're a little more stable," Doctor Synecdoche said. Skulduggery didn't bother responding.

Ghastly came in a few hours later with Valkyrie to find Skulduggery sat on the edge of the bed with his arms on his knees and his head resting against one of them. He didn't look too good. In fact, he looked horrible.

"How's our best detective?" Ghastly asked, his voice full of optimism.

"Please, just kill me now," Skulduggery moaned, sounding as if he genuinely wanted to die again.

Ghastly frowned and walked over to him, tilting his head up to take in his bloodshot eyes and flushed, yet sunken cheeks.

"Not doing too well, huh?" he said.

"What's it look like?"

Ghastly sighed. "Valkyrie, mind getting him a glass of water? Make sure it's cold."

Valkyrie nodded and picked up a glass that was on the bedside table, leaving to find a water fountain.

Ghastly sat down on the bed next to Skulduggery and rubbed his back gently. He felt the man's ribs through the hospital gown.

"I'm going to shoot whoever did this to me," Skulduggery vowed weakly.

"They certainly seem to have done more harm than good," Ghastly mused.

"I'm going to be out of bloody work for who knows how long."

"You'll need a new wardrobe, too."

"Are you offering to make me one?"

"Something other than suits, Skulduggery. Having a stomach means going out to buy food, and wearing suits day in, day out might raise some eyebrows, no matter how exquisitely made they are."

"Is that a 'no' then?"

Ghastly rolled his eyes. "I'll make you something, just don't complain when it turns out to be something other than a suit."

At that moment, Valkyrie walked in with a glass that dripped condensation from the water inside it.

"Drink up," she said, handing Skulduggery the glass, which he gratefully took and brought to his dry lips. Ghastly had to hold him back from completely chugging it down, lest he somehow drown himself or get sick again.

"Better?" Valkyrie asked when he was done.

Skulduggery nodded. "Much," he said. It showed too; his cheeks were a little less flushed and his posture was straighter. "Do they know how I got my body back? I'd sure like to."

Valkyrie shook her head. "China's looking into it. She think the three kids we found there might have some sort of link to it."

"Kids?"

"Long story short; we found three kids in the caves. We're just as surprised as you. Synecdoche won't let us near them, but Clarabelle calls them 'the Pups.'"

"Hardly the strangest thing she's done since I met her."

"True. Look, I need to go. Try not to drown yourself or… whatever else could happen to you now that you're alive again."

Skulduggery smirked, a flicker of his old ego rising up. "No promises."

"Shut up, you are _not_ getting yourself into another calamity, and that's final."

"Of course, mother."

* * *

 **Back again.**

 **Look, I know that this seems to be strange behaviour for Skul, but I figured regaining his living, breathing body would be somewhat traumatic, and the reason he's in such shitty condition is because whatever gave him his body back, it didn't exactly have the best idea of what a healthy human's physical state should really be. Damn entities need to read up on human biology...**


	8. Chapter 7

**More madness! More crappy dialogue!**

 **Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 7 – The Pups**

A few days later, Skulduggery was finally discharged from the medical ward, but Valkyrie wanted to see the infamous 'Pups' first. Clarabelle wouldn't shut up about them, so she wanted to see what all the fuss was about.

Surprisingly, Doctor Synecdoche held no opposition to her request. In fact, she _wanted_ them to see the three mystery kids. Particularly Erskine, Dexter and Saracen, for whatever reason.

When Valkyrie did, she practically melted. Tanith let out a little 'aww', too.

The three of them were boys, about three or four years old. They were sat on a single hospital bed, looking about curiously with wide, innocent eyes. Clarabelle was fussing over them, looking completely at home looking after the youngsters.

"Oh, hi!" she chirped when she saw them walk in. "Doctor Synecdoche said you'd be coming in. I think. Or maybe she was talking about Gerald and Scapey."

"I think she was talking about us," Skulduggery said. He was dressed in a suit Ghastly had brought for him, and much like when he'd been dead, it hung off of his skeletal frame (no pun intended) as if he still lacked flesh. Clarity had observed this, and made a mental note to badger him into eating enough so that he started to fill out.

"Okay. Oh, yeah, she said you were coming to pick them up. Shame, I'm going to miss them."

"Wait, what?" Dexter questioned.

"You're looking after them," Synecdoche said bluntly as she walked in. "This is no place for kids to be practically living here. And since it was your little escapade that led to them being here, you're responsible for them."

"Hey, that was hardly our fault. Gracious and Donegan got lost in those caves, we went to find them."

"I hardly find the Monster Hunters to be responsible carers, so I'm placing them in your care until I can find someone more qualified. In fact, Clarity made the offer for the lot of you to be temporary guardians for them."

"What?!" Dexter squawked, turning towards Clarity. "Have you been possessed by a Remnant? I am _not_ father material!"

"It's a good thing that I'm going to be their primary carer then," Clarity said.

"But you'll be gallivanting around the world, how can you look after three toddlers, too?"

"Who said I was leaving?"

"What are you going on about?"

"If you'd been around to listen to anything I'd said over the past few days, you'd know that Erskine and I are staying here in Ireland so I can help Skulduggery adjust to being alive again."

"Oh. Why's Erskine staying?"

"I'm his custodian, dammit."

"Oh, yeah."

"Okay, Pups," Clarabelle chirped. "This is your new family."

"Whoa," Saracen exasperated. "Don't get too hasty, there. We don't even know their names."

"This is Husky," Clarabelle announced, gesturing to the middle pup. He had dark hair and dark, thoughtful grey eyes, like Saracen.

Dexter noticed the similarity. "Looks like you, 'Daddy'," he teased quietly.

"Shut up," Saracen deadpanned.

"This one is Dingo," Clarabelle continued, gesturing to the one with blonde hair and soft blue eyes like Dexter.

"Oh, Daddy Dexter," Saracen crooned mockingly, a devious grin meeting his face. Dexter just scowled at him.

"And the cutie is Wolf," Clarabelle announced, turning to the last one and ruffling his mop of reddish-brown hair. 'Wolf' just blinked up at her with big, golden eyes.

Dexter and Saracen both made the connection. "Well damn," Dexter breathed, looking a little frustrated. "So in that explosion, Skulduggery gets his body back, and Saracen, Erskine and I get kid versions of us? No fair! Kids are a damn handful."

"And you know this, because..?" Clarity challenged, narrowing their eyes.

"You were kind of a kid when we found you. How do you know?"

"I had to raise Dipper after I took him in at the age of three. I have lost count of the amount of times I almost lost him because he decided to swim with dolphins."

"Oh. The worst you did was stealing Skulduggery's leg whilst he meditated."

"And parading around the campsite with it whilst _you lot_ cheered them on," Skulduggery grumbled.

Wolf heard what the former skeleton said, and wagged his tail slowly. The fuzzy wolf ears on his head – that no one had noticed until now – perked up.

Wait...

"They have tails?" Skulduggery questioned. "And... wolf ears?"

Clarabelle nodded. "That's why I called them the Pups."

Skulduggery shook his head grimly. "This is going to be a nightmare."

* * *

The group got home using Ghastly's van. Clarity had put Dexter, Saracen and Erskine in charge of a Pup each whilst they made sure Skulduggery didn't start suffering from motion sickness. He was currently groaning weakly with his head between his knees.

Erskine was looking down at Wolf with eyes just as curious as the wolf-eared child. The boy was sat on his lap, switching his attention between his carer and the Labrador plush that Clarabelle had given him.

"You're lucky," Dexter grumbled, grunting when Dingo nearly fell off of his knee. "I'm stuck with the devil one."

"I suppose he resembles you in more than just looks," Erskine quipped, a smirk gracing his features.

"Hey."

"I'm only stating fact."

"I have a long list of insults that I could possibly toss at you, but I'm afraid that the presence of children withholds me from voicing them."

"We should have gone down to those caves a _long_ time ago," Saracen mused cheekily.

"Hey! You're no better than I am!"

"Knock it off, you two!" Ghastly barked from where he was driving. "I'm starting to think that you are the kids, not the Pups."

* * *

Valkyrie decided that the group of carers and their charges – as annoying as some of them may be – would be better off if they continued to stay with her at Edgely manor. There wasn't much protest, and Skulduggery was surprisingly eager to lodge there. Probably because he didn't want to go back to Cemetery Road just yet. The place was too grim.

Everyone was greeted by Clarity's friends, who were just beginning to pack up for when they left the next day. Dipper in particular was disappointed that Clarity wouldn't be going with them, but didn't complain too much. He got distracted by the Pups, like almost everyone else. Dingo and Husky both seemed to enjoy the attention, but Wolf was immediately hiding behind Erskine's leg, ears flattening against his head.

"Come on, Pup," Erskine coaxed, picking the three-year-old up and heading over to his and Clarity's RV for some privacy. He slept in Clarity's RV because of the nightmares he still suffered from. "You want some orange juice?"

Wolf nodded, and Erskine got a carton of orange juice from the fridge, pouring himself and the boy some. Wolf eagerly took it and gulped it down, earning a chuckle from Erskine. Sitting the boy down on the bottom bunk, he grabbed a book from the shelf and sat down next to him.

"Hmm, you're not much of a talker, are you?" he mused, ruffling the boy's hair gently. Wolf just looked up at him with the same wide eyes. "It's okay. I was quiet when I was your age, too."

 _Your age…_

Erskine frowned slightly, but quickly pulled up a reassuring smile when Wolf noticed. "You'll have a good childhood, I promise."

 _I wouldn't forgive myself if you don't…_

* * *

Clarity came into the RV about an hour later to find Erskine sat on the bottom bunk, reading. Softly snoozing next to him, more or less sprawled across his guardian's lap; was Wolf. The whole scene made them want to squeal.

Instead, they composed themselves. "Seems you're well-adjusted to fatherhood already," they remarked, a small smile reaching their lips.

Enraptured in his book as he was, Erskine was surprised to hear Clarity's voice. "You think so?"

God, the utter hope in his voice made them want to hug him and never let go.

"Definitely. And your next 'test' of parenthood starts once you get into the living room. Dinner's ready, and I believe a food fight is likely to occur. Make sure Wolf doesn't become a one-Pup battalion."

* * *

 **I've always pictured Erskine to be something of a father type. That, and I have chosen to dump more trauma to his life that has lead him to be very protective of kids.**

 **Oh, and remember what I said in the prologue about that ship that shouldn't be sunk? It shall soon set sail in a few chapters.**

 **Points to whoever guesses the ship.**

 **Anyways. Adios!**


	9. Chapter 8

**A nice long chapter for you lovely readers. Enjoy some out of character Skulduggery because sleep deprivation is a bitch and I'm horribly sadistic.**

 **Oh, and for clarification, the flashback is set _before_ Skulduggery was killed.**

* * *

 **Chapter** **8 – Not the Only One**

For the next week after Clarity's friends left, four of the Dead Men remained at Edgely Manor, looking after themselves and the Pups. Speaking of which, the three children were proving to be quite the handful. Husky and Dingo were deliberate troublemakers, it seemed; surprisingly devious for three-year-olds. Wolf was quiet, but he had a tendency to wander off and disappear, causing Erskine (who had grown overly attached to the Pup) to go off into a panic that was worthy of any parent. All in all, the three had adjusted well to life in the manor.

However, the same couldn't be said for Skulduggery, who was struggling to cope with life in general. He kept throwing up whatever he ate, and often got extremely worked up to the point he had to be restrained in order to be calmed down. The insomnia certainly didn't help, either. Since he'd gotten back to the manor, he hadn't got even a wink of sleep, and it was showing. To put it simply, he looked like a zombie with nervous tics.

On the seventh night, Erskine came into the kitchen at three a.m., intending to get a drink. He hadn't expected Skulduggery to have beaten him to it. The man was rifling through cupboards for something he could stomach for longer than five minutes, and Erskine had a clear view of his dangerously prominent ribs through the light grey shirt he wore.

"Trouble sleeping?" he enquired, causing Skulduggery to jump and hit his head on the worktop.

"What do you think?" Skulduggery growled, rubbing his head. He was still sour towards Erskine for obvious reasons.

"I think Clarity left some soup in the fridge if you want to heat that up," Erskine continued.

Skulduggery scowled and walked over to the fridge, grabbing the Tupperware bowl of soup. Marching to the microwave he put the soup in and set the timer to thirty seconds.

Erskine sighed. "Skulduggery, I-."

"I'm not forgiving you, Erskine. You betrayed us, lied to us, threw our country into-."

"Then stop taking out your anger on Clarity. If you really do hate me that much, then take it out on me, just stop being so harsh with them. They had nothing to do with my plans."

"Your plans could have got them killed."

"What?"

"Think about it, Erskine; what if you had succeeded? Not only would you reveal the existence of sorcerers, but other magical beings as well. Mortals might welcome you with open arms, but the same can't be said for creatures like vampires, yetis, the list goes on. They could try hunting them down, and Clarity could end up being on that list. Did you ever think about that?"

Erskine was silent, and Skulduggery continued.

"Clarity took you in; the man who could have set in motion events that could have led to their death. Did that ever cross your mind?"

"I… no. No, it didn't…"

Skulduggery snorted. "You're even more self-centred than I thought."

"I'm… I'm sorry."

"It's too late to say that, don't you think? I'll let Clarity protect you, but if you _ever_ betray them the way you betrayed us, and try to get involved with that ridiculous revolution of yours again, I swear I'll make you suffer even more than Darquesse ever did."

At the mention of Valkyrie's true name, Erskine's eyes widened in fear. "I never had any intention of doing that."

"Strangely enough, I find that very hard to believe."

"I-."

"You tried to _murder_ Ghastly and Anton…"

"I didn't want-."

"…In Mevolent's realm, you turned to him for aid. _Mevolent_! What the hell were you thinking?!"

"I know, but-."

"And like a coward, you ran from Darquesse while the rest of us risked our lives to stop her. Saracen and Dexter almost _died_ , did you know that? They were stuck in comas for six goddamn months!"

"And where were you?!" Erskine snapped. "After that precious sword broke, you disappeared, too. If that's not hypocrisy, then I don't know what is!"

"I came back, which is a damn lot more than what you did!"

"I was bloody terrified! Skulduggery, you've never felt anything like it! The only thing that managed to top it was the pain I felt in that goddamn gaol!"

"Well it can't be anything worse than getting raped and killed!"

Erskine was caught off guard by Skulduggery's outburst, and was struck into silence for a few seconds. "I… w-what?"

Tears were immediately streaming down Skulduggery's face, and as he desperately tried to wipe them away, he managed to choke out, "I-I didn't… I've never told anyone e-exactly what happened before he killed me…"

Horrified, Erskine had to lean against the worktop lest he collapse from shock. "Skulduggery, I…"

"Shut up! You have no bloody idea what it's like! You've never-."

"I do," Erskine interrupted, his eyes firm, but only to hide how haunted he truly was. "I spent the better part of six years thinking the same way as you; feeling like no one else knew how I felt."

He couldn't have gotten a better reaction if he'd stepped forward and slapped Skulduggery in the face.

"Those… those bastards!" he choked. "I-I'm so sorry! N-no one deserves that, not even you. Goddammit, why didn't I notice?"

"It's not your fault," he whispered. "I only have myself to blame."

"I'm such an idiot."

"Not as much as I'm such a prick. I'm sorry."

"So am I."

The two broken mages remained silent until the microwave emitted a small _'ding!'_ They retrieved the reheated soup from the microwave, split it between themselves and went to the living room to eat it, taking opposite couches to each other. Much to Skulduggery's surprise, he didn't feel sick the moment he was finished.

"Is that why Clarity got you out of the gaol?" Skulduggery asked, voice hoarse and still shaky. "They saw what was going on?"

Erskine winced. "They saw the warden trying to claw my eyes out," he explained, voice quiet and haunted. "After battering him to a pulp, they corralled me into telling them what had happened. You should have seen them; I was well past scared out of my wits."

"I can imagine."

"It took them a month, but they got me out eventually. I was an absolute wreck, but they've been trying to fix me ever since."

"Definitely something they'd do."

They continued to talk like that for a while, but very quickly, Skulduggery started doing more yawning than conversing. Eventually, he started nodding off, and fell asleep halfway through a sentence. Erskine smiled sadly, and once he was certain Skulduggery was sound asleep, he adjusted him so that he was lying down on the sofa, and placed a blanket over him.

"Out of everyone, it was your forgiveness I sought out the most," he whispered into the sleeping man's ear. "And… you have no idea how thankful I am that I've received it."

* * *

After having spent so long without sleep, Skulduggery was overwhelmed by the pure _bliss_ that washed over him when he finally let it take over him.

Of course, when he slept it gave the nightmares full opportunity to harass him. That was one thing he hadn't missed when he was dead.

Especially when the nightmares turned out to be memories

* * *

 _Flames licked the building as terrified screams pierced the ears of the Dead Men. Skulduggery was frozen in horror; the nightmarish image of his own child burning in that same inferno invading his mind's eye._

 _"_ _Skulduggery!" Ghastly snapped, breaking him from his trance. "Get a move on! We need to put out these flames!"_

 _Spurred on by his friend's yelling, he raised his hands and forced the flames to bend to his will. Corrival and Ghastly were both doing the same, and he expected Erskine to be following suit, however the brown-haired Elemental was nowhere to be seen._

 _"_ _Ravel!" Corrival roared. "Get back here, you crazy son of a bitch!"_

 _Out of the corner of his eye, Skulduggery saw a figure dash into the fire, however he ignored it and blocked out everything; the screams, the snapping of wood and the collapse of the beams; and focused on quelling the raging flames._

 _Eventually, the searing heat of the blaze died down to nothing. Only the charred skeleton of the building and the smell of death remained. No one was screaming any more._

 _In the back of his mind, That Voice in his head was relishing the lingering power of death. It was as if he had a Necromancer lodging in his subconscious._

 _The same figure that had charged headfirst into the building whilst it had been engulfed in flames stumbled out; covered in soot, hacking their lungs out in an attempt to clear them and cradling a small body in their arms._

 _Corrival was on him in an instant. "Erskine, you madman!" he howled. "What the bloody hell were you thinking?!"_

 _Erskine just stared at him blankly, eyes almost dead. "I…"_

 _"_ _Do you have any idea how stupid that was!?"_

 _"_ _I couldn't leave her in there!" Erskine yelled, clutching the body closer to his chest. The angry defiance that blazed in his golden eyes was washed away by horror when the girl in his arms let out a small moan of pain._

 _"_ _Oh god," Erskine breathed. "I-I'm so sorry. Listen, it's going to be okay."_

 _Denial drowned his eyes as he carefully kneeled down and rested the girl on his knees. Charred black hair topped her head, and her face was a tapestry of ugly red burns. Her breathing was laboured, wheezing out of her chest painfully, and blood dripped from a wound in her stomach. Skulduggery had to beat away the mental image of his own child in the same state with a spiked mace._

 _"_ _Wh… where's my mommy?" the girl whimpered. She sounded so weak and vulnerable, it was obvious that she wasn't going to survive._

 _"_ _She… she didn't make it out of the fire," Erskine replied, barely keeping the tears out of his voice. "I'm sorry."_

 _Skulduggery kneeled down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder. They locked eyes; violet with gold; and silent understanding passed between them. The girl was going to die._

 _"_ _What's your name?" Erskine asked, shifting his grip slightly so he wouldn't hurt her._

 _"_ _R… Rose…"_

 _"_ _That's a really pretty name."_

 _"_ _Thank you."_

 _A weak, throaty cough stuttered out of Rose's lungs, and Erskine's shoulders visibly shook._

 _"_ _It… h…hurts…" she wheezed._

 _"_ _I know," Erskine whispered. "I'm sorry, but I don't know if I can-."_

 _"_ _Eat this," Anton interrupted, holding out a few medicinal leaves. Chances were that Corrival would grumble at him for wasting medical supplies, but the Adept clearly didn't care. "It'll make you feel better."_

 _"_ _Like magic?" Rose asked as she tentatively chewed on the offered leaves._

 _Anton nodded. "Like magic."_

 _"_ _It'll make the pain go away," Erskine reassured as he gently stroked Rose's hair. "It'll all go away soon."_

 _Skulduggery noticed his voice was shaking, and the darkness in the back of his mind was showing uncharacteristic sympathy. The Dead Men all held silent vigil as they waited for Rose's final moments to pass…_

* * *

 _Rose was dead before nightfall. Corrival didn't protest when Erskine insisted that they buried her, and no jokes were made when he spent the rest of the night drowning his sorrows in one of the bottles of whiskey that they'd brought along for a special occasion._

 _Skulduggery joined him by the campfire, but he didn't help himself to the alcohol. It wouldn't do to have two drunkards near an open flame._

 _"_ _Mortals d… did it," Erskine slurred. "S… Saracen t… told me." He was still shaking, like he had been since Rose had died in his arms._

 _"_ _Did he know why?" Skulduggery asked. Although he hadn't been as badly affected as Erskine, every time he thought about Rose, a picture of his own child replaced her. The image was disgusting, and the fact that someone had knowingly burned down that house with the knowledge of children being in there made him feel sick._

 _"_ _M… m-money… Her father was in… in debt. The people he o… owed w-weren't… weren't happy."_

 _The bitter disgust in his voice was evident, even thought he was drunk beyond reason. Gentle clicks sounded in the air, and Skulduggery realised that Erskine was snapping his fingers repeatedly. If he wasn't careful, he'd summon a spark._

 _"_ _Don't," he said firmly, holding Erskine's hands still. A small growl of approval sounded in the back of his mind._

 _"_ _Wh… why did… why are people… l-like that?"_

 _Skulduggery sighed. "I don't know."_

 _"_ _S' not right… She was so y…young…"_

 _The floodgates opened, and Skulduggery could only hold Erskine close as he sobbed uncontrollably. At some point, he cried with him, and the voice in the back of his head was whining, too._

 _It seemed even harbingers of death could mourn the very thing they swept the land with…_


	10. Chapter 9

**Something of a filler chapter here. And some cute stuff with Wolf and Erskine.**

 **Enjoy.**

* * *

 **Chapter 9 - Morning**

Valkyrie came downstairs to find Skulduggery and Erskine in the living room, lying on the couches. Both men were sprawled out and threatening to fall onto the floor. In all honesty, Valkyrie was too relieved to be concerned about how they'd wound up sleeping downstairs. What mattered right now was that Skulduggery was getting some sleep.

"You found them?" Clarity asked, walking in with wolf clinging to their trouser leg.

Valkyrie nodded. "I'm guessing Skulduggery passed out on the couch and Erskine had the good graces to tuck him in. For once, he's doing something nice."

Ignoring the jibe, Clarity carefully nudged Skulduggery back onto the sofa and shifted the coffee table away from him.

"We should leave him be," they said. "He needs-. Wolf, what are you doing?"

Wolf was clambering up onto the sofa Erskine was sleeping on. Once he was there, the little Pup sat down next to the mage and started literally petting him like a dog. His actions caused Valkyrie to snort with laughter, and made Clarity grin.

Eventually, Erskine woke up from the incessant petting. Grumbling, he propped himself up to look at Wolf irritably. The Pup just looked at him with wide eyes and wagged his tail playfully.

"Hey, there, Pup," Erskine muttered, raising a hand and ruffling Wolf's hair gently. "So I'm a dog, now, huh?"

Wolf smiled happily, and hugged Erskine tightly, making Valkyrie go 'Aaaw,' at how cute the whole thing was. Even Clarity and Erskine allowed themselves to smile gently.

"You want breakfast?" Erskine asked, sitting up. Wolf nodded eagerly, and clung to Erskine's chest when he was gently lifted up in the mage's arms. The waking party all went to the kitchen, where Clarity started preparing a cooked breakfast for a grand total of nine, Valkyrie made some drinks and Erskine used his free hand to get the dishes out.

"You never struck me as the cooking type, Erskine," Valkyrie remarked, handing Erskine a mug of hot coffee, which he gratefully took.

"That's because he's not," Clarity said teasingly, earning an indignant scowl from Erskine. "Don't let him near an oven or cooking fire unless you want him to set fire to the meal _and_ the surrounding area."

"Hey! It's not my fault I'm not as culinary adept as others," Erskine protested. "And I do _not_ set fire to everything!"

"Tell that to Anton after he trusted you to cook dinner whilst he wrestled me to the ground in order to get Skulduggery's leg back…"

"Dexter was being an idiot and distracted me."

"…And Saracen when he asked you to marinade and cook those barbeque ribs some twenty years ago."

"It wasn't my fault that there was a gas leak and I thought the lighter part of the cooker wasn't working!"

"Face it, Erskine; you're a culinary disaster."

Erskine glowered at Clarity. "I can make sandwiches," he mumbled.

"And even they're a mess. You drowned mine with mayonnaise last time."

"But you like mayonnaise!"

"Not that much."

They continued to bicker back and forth whilst Valkyrie watched with amusement. Wolf; who was still being held in Erskine's arm seemed to develop an interest in the mug of coffee in his guardian's hand, and unbeknownst to anyone, he reached out and pulled it towards him, tilting it and taking a sip.

"Erskine," Valkyrie interrupted. "Wolf is helping himself to your coffee. I don't think he likes it."

Erskine halted his argument with Clarity to look down at the Pup in his arms, whose face was scrunched up in distaste, ears laid down flat against his head. Erskine chuckled and brought the mug to his own lips.

"Not very nice, is it?" he asked when he finished. Wolf shook his head. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it when you're older."

Wolf flicked his ears as he looked up at Erskine strangely, only succeeding in drawing another chuckle from the mage.

Valkyrie smiled and placed a toaster waffle in… well… the toaster. When it popped out, she smeared it with chocolate spread and handed it to Wolf. The Pup grinned and eagerly took it, chomping down on the sweet treat.

"What do you say, Wolf?" Erskine asked expectantly. "You say 'thank you' when someone does something nice for you."

Wolf looked up at Valkyrie and let out a little 'yip!' when he'd swallowed the mouthful of chocolate covered waffle he was currently chewing on. Erskine sighed in defeat and ruffled the boy's hair. "Good boy."

"So when did Skulduggery finally get to sleep?" Clarity asked.

"I found him in the kitchen at three," Erskine said. "I'd say it was half an hour later when he finallypassed out."

"And it's half six now, so he's only had roughly three hours of sleep. Dexter and Saracen had better not wake him up."

"Get back here, you rascal!"

Everyone was caught off guard by the yellow-haired blur that dashed in, and the blond man who charged in after it. Dingo hid behind Valkyrie's legs, a cheeky grin adorning his features. Dexter scowled in annoyance, his hair sopping wet and wearing little more than a towel around his waist.

"Dexter, get some clothes on!" Erskine exclaimed.

"That little nuisance tried to burn me alive in the shower!" Dexter protested.

"Did not!" Dingo protested.

"Then why was the sink running?"

"Dingo," Clarity said. "Look at me, and say you didn't mess around with the sink to make Dexter's shower burn him."

Dingo's ears drooped, and when he looked at Clarity, his blue eyes were guilty to no end. "I did it," he whimpered.

Clarity sighed and shook her head. "Dingo, that's not very nice, you should know that. You could have hurt him very badly."

"Sorry, Dexter."

Dexter's scowl softened after a few moments, and he offered the blonde Pup a forgiving smile. "Don't let it happen again," he said. "Promise?"

Dingo nodded. "Promise."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to wash the conditioner out of my hair."

"You use conditioner?" Valkyrie questioned.

"A guy's gotta look his best for the ladies."

"You're unbelievable…"

"Unbelievably desirable, baby."

"Out before I shock you!"

That was more than enough to prompt Dexter to clear out of the kitchen and back to the bathroom. Dingo left his hiding spot behind Valkyrie and tottered over to Clarity, who was frying eggs and bacon, and keeping an eye on the bread in the toaster.

"Can I have some bacon, please?" he asked, adorning his almost irresistible puppy eyes.

Surprisingly, Clarity was immune to the infamous look. "When I've made enough for everyone, okay?" they said, ruffling Dingo's hair. The Pup nodded and waited patiently, keeping still for once.

* * *

 **Reviews are love!**


	11. Chapter 10

**Okay, so more stuff you'll no doubt hate me for, and some childhood memories! Seriously, I piled in nostalgia towards the end.**

 **Enjoy, and be sure to leave a review!**

* * *

 **Chapter 10 – These Scars Remain**

 _Erskine looked at himself in the mirror, taking in the tapestry of scars that littered his upper body. He couldn't remember a time before this when he'd had so many, not even after the war._

 _Feeling sick to his stomach, he picked up the dark green turtleneck he'd chosen to wear, and slipped it on, making sure the collar obscured the scars on his neck. Funny; how he'd absolutely despised turtlenecks before all this. Probably because they'd made him feel like his air supply was being cut off. Now they provided him with a sense of security and hid away the torturous memories._

 _He couldn't help but feel ashamed. The others had scars (Ghastly being no exception), but their scars were like trophies, proof they'd suffered hardships to benefit everyone else. His, though… his afflictions were a harsh reminder of how he'd let himself…_

 _Erskine shuddered violently, wrapping his arms around himself and trying to halt the oncoming panic attack. No, he wouldn't think about it. He wouldn't freak out over a memory. Breathe. In. Out. In. Out._

 _He tried to remember something else. Something that would calm him down and tear his thoughts away from… from_ that.

 _Nothing. All his memories were fraught with overwhelming fear, guilt, despair, anger, jealousy, or all of the listed emotions including more. Not even memories of carefree, late-night jaunts to the local tavern with his friends were free of them. There was always something in the back of his head, spiting him, making him resent those around him. It was a wonder he'd gotten this far without snapping completely._

 _He'd have to make something up. Think of something he'd wanted his whole life, something that… made him feel accomplished, complete and satisfied with himself._

 _There. There it was. A smile, eyes full of trust and love, untainted innocence throughout. The chance to watch a life grow and blossom, a life he needed in his just as much as they needed him. An opportunity to show them the world, and perhaps find something in himself that he hadn't known was there._

 _Erskine smiled, and relaxed as the wave of panic broke just short of the shores of his emotions. Crisis averted._

 _The smile suddenly fell away as he thought of his dream. It was something he'd never achieve. Not any more. Not after what he'd done._

 _He felt tears coming on. Oh, god, not now…_

 _After a few minutes of rapid blinking and deep breathing, Erskine managed to calm his roiling emotions, and left the RV, putting up a mask of calm that he hoped would stand for the rest of the day._

* * *

Skulduggery slept in until midday, and when he finally woke up, he still looked like a zombie with nervous ticks, but there was a light in his eyes that wasn't there before. After managing to eat and hold down two bowls of soup, he spent most of the afternoon sprawled out on the couch and watching Disney movies with the Pups. In reality, he actually just dozed through most of them whilst the Pups watched, and Dexter had the audacity to sing along with Pinocchio.

Valkyrie noticed that he was being more hospitable towards Erskine. Nothing drastic, just simple gestures; a respectful nod, sometimes even a pat on the back.

Later in the afternoon, Clarity was searching through the kitchen cupboards for food when they noticed the substantial lack of it.

"Dammit," they mumbled, closing the cupboards. "I'm going to have to do a supply run."

Writing down a list of what was needed, Clarity pulled their coat on and slipped a pair of sleek, black-framed glasses over the bridge of their nose. Immediately, the symbols etched onto the rims cast an illusion over their eyes that disguised the black sclera as natural white.

"Skulduggery," they called, poking their head round the living room door. Skulduggery was leaning back in a sofa, one arm laid out on the backrest, with Wolf sat next to him. _'Bambi'_ was playing on the television screen. "I need to go out on a supply run. Mind letting Erskine know once he gets out of the shower?"

"Sure. How long do you think you'll be gone?"

"An hour, maybe? I should get going now, before the shops close. See you later."

"Bye."

The door slammed shut, and Skulduggery waited five minutes for Erskine to come down. When he didn't, Skulduggery stood up off the sofa, yawning and stretching his scrawny legs, grimacing when he felt the tendons pressing against his sallow skin.

Walking up the stairs was a chore. Dizziness swept over him when he reached the top, and his legs ached painfully as usual.

"Why, oh why did I have to be reanimated in this damned state?" he complained as he walked over to Erskine's bedroom door. Not thinking to knock, Skulduggery pushed open the door. "Erskine, Clar-."

"Get out!"

The door immediately slammed back into his face, forced there by a ferocious gust of air. It hit Skulduggery's nose, not hard enough to draw blood, but it hurt all the same.

However, the pain didn't stop Skulduggery from seeing what he had.

Vile was snarling in outrage, and Skulduggery had to lock him up even tighter to prevent any vestige of the maniac getting out and wreaking havoc.

"Erskine," Skulduggery said, knocking on the door loudly. "Erskine let me in."

"J-just a minute!" Erskine stressed.

Despite the constant nagging of Vile telling him to charge in, demand to know what happened and then _murder_ whoever did this to Erskine, he waited.

When Erskine finally opened the door, a thick, light blue turtleneck covered his previously bare chest, and his golden eyes refused to meet Skulduggery's, despite the annoyance plastered on his face.

"Make sure to knock first," he said sourly. "Honestly, you have no idea what I could have been doing in there!"

"Who hurt you?" Skulduggery deadpanned.

"What're you-?"

"The scars, Erskine. You've never had that many before, so it's obvious where you got them. Who did it?"

Painfully haunted eyes met his, and Skulduggery felt Vile snarling with mixed emotions. Mostly anger.

"The warden," Erskine said quietly. "I stepped out of line, he'd beat me, and at some point – I can't remember when – he just… just started doing it all the time. Then the other prisoners…"

Skulduggery noticed the tremors in Erskine's voice, and he quickly stopped him.

"I see. And… the lack of access to your magic. That's why the scars are still there."

A nod.

Tentatively, Skulduggery opened his arms for a hug, which Erskine hesitantly returned. He was shaking beneath Skulduggery's arms. Vile's angered threats quietened as he laid back and growled in contentment. Jesus, what had gotten into the psychopath lately? And why was he feeling tingly? There had better not be something else wrong with him.

Assured that Erskine had calmed down enough that he wouldn't have an emotional breakdown, Skulduggery broke away and patted him on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring smile.

"Clarity's gone to the shops, they'll be back in an hour," he said.

"Right. Have the others got back?"

"No. Hopefully Dexter and Saracen haven't lost Husky and Dingo in Roarhaven."

"Oh, come on. They're not that bad."

"Are you willing to test that theory?"

Erskine rolled his eyes in exasperation as he followed Skulduggery downstairs. Wolf was still fixated by the movie, and only looked away from the screen when Erskine sat down and ruffled his hair gently.

"Hey, Pup," Erskine greeted cheerfully. "You enjoying the movie?"

Wolf didn't reply, but he eagerly clambered onto Erskine's lap, settling down to watch the movie once again. Content with his answer, Erskine smiled and turned his attention to the screen. He'd never taken much interest in Disney movies, but he quite liked the look of _'Bambi'_. When had he first seen advertisements for it? The 40s? However long ago it was, it was ages ago. It was amazing how something so old still had such an appeal to this day. And the fact that _mortals_ of all people had come up with this was astounding.

When the 'twitterpated' scene came up, a curious question wormed its way into Erskine's head. He tried to ignore it, but it just kept nagging and nagging at him with such urgency that he knew if he didn't ask now, he'd be left feeling twisted and confused on the inside until he did.

"Do you think you'll ever, um… you know… get together with someone?" he ventured carefully whilst Flower was literally being smitten pink by a female skunk. "Maybe try to rebuild what you had before?"

Skulduggery; who'd been staring at the screen blankly; looked up in surprise. "I… It never crossed my mind," he admitted. "Why'd you ask?"

"I think you deserve to have someone you can spend the rest of your life with. After everything you've done, you've honestly received very little in return. The most you've ever asked for is repairs for the Bentley."

Skulduggery gave him an odd look, which was quickly replaced with a saddened smile. "I don't ask for anything in return because I've already received what I want," he explained, only succeeding in confusing Erskine more.

"I don't understand. How can-?"

"I've done things I regret. The deeds I commit allow me to redeem myself for them."

Erskine just tilted his head in confusion. "What are you talking about? All you've ever done is to benefit others. The only one who has anything to regret here is me."

A frown was his only answer. "I… I don't want to talk about it," Skulduggery murmured. "Let's just watch the movie.

* * *

By the time Clarity got back, Saracen and Dexter had returned to the house, along with Valkyrie, Ghastly, Tanith and Fletcher. Apparently, Anton was due to arrive later on in the evening.

"I got beer, too," Dexter announced. "Once the Pups are in bed, then we can treat ourselves; celebrate our first successful week looking after them."

Skulduggery rolled his eyes. "Things never turn out well when you go near alcohol," he said bluntly.

"Don't think you're getting out of it, Skull," Saracen reprimanded. "Admit it, you miss the taste of alcohol."

Frowning, Skulduggery narrowed his eyes. "If I get sick tonight, I'm blaming you."

"Oh, come on. What's the worst that could happen?"

* * *

 **Dexter? Dexter, no. Bad Dexter!**

 **I do believe that those will be some very famous last words.**


	12. Chapter 11

***starts digging a grave* What, this? *points to the shovel* Just a precaution.**

 **First thing's first, I added a reference to Shadowdawn199's hilarious story; 'Skulduggery and the Theatre' to this chapter, so credit goes to them for that idea. I suggest you go read it, it's epic.**

 **Secondly. Remember that ship I mentioned before? The one that should be sunk? It set sails here!**

 **I hope you enjoy. If not, then at least write something funny on my headstone.**

* * *

 **Chapter 11 - Intoxication**

Skulduggery got drunk. Very, _very_ drunk.

Now, he was staggering around with his favourite hat on his head at a skewed angle. Laughing like an idiot, he held a half empty bottle of beer in his hand whilst Clarity desperately tried to prevent him from tripping over and smacking his head over the coffee table.

"Skulduggery, sit down," Anton groaned in exasperation. "You're drunk."

"M' not drunk!" Skulduggery retorted, his words almost slurred beyond recognition. "I've only had one bottle."

"And it's clear you haven't retained any tolerance of alcohol whatsoever," Clarity muttered.

"Shuddup, Clary."

Erskine, who was sat next to Ghastly, watched the drunk detective with worry. He'd had three bottles already, and his head was just starting to feel fuzzy. Four hundred years of experience drinking alcohol had given him a pretty decent tolerance of the stuff.

Eventually, he'd seen enough, and hauled himself to his feet. The sudden wave of dizziness made him stumble, but he regained his balance quickly enough to grab Skulduggery by the arm.

"You've definitely had enough to drink," he said, ignoring the glare he got from Valkyrie. "Best get to bed before you do something you'll regret."

"I'm not-."

Erskine's gaze hardened. "Skulduggery…"

"Fine."

The heavily inebriated man was guided out of the living room, and when he left, Valkyrie finally allowed herself to laugh. "You have to admit," she said. "Skulduggery's pretty funny when he's drunk."

"You should've seen him when he was dead. He got too close to a drunk Empathy Stirrer once," Saracen joked, and the rest of the Dead Men laughed at the memory, "and he set his head on fire and started singing this weird song about anemones."

Tanith suddenly snorted with laughter. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope!"

* * *

Erskine managed to guide Skulduggery to his room, and by the time they got there, the detective's hat was perilously close to falling off of his head, and he was mumbling something under his breath. It sounded like he was talking to himself.

"I've been thinkin'," he said out loud once the bedroom door shut. He was leaning slightly against Erskine, but thankfully, he wasn't a dead weight.

"This'll be interesting," Erskine muttered snarkily. He was surprised when something landed on his head and obscured his vision. Unable to see, he fumbled around, feeling a wide-brimmed hat on his head that hadn't been there before.

"Suits you," Skulduggery complimented, a lopsided smile adorning his features. Slowly, he held Erskine by the shoulders, bringing him closer so that thier noses were almost touching. "Y'know that… that thing you said about me finding someone to… to be with?"

Erskine nodded dumbly. His head was still fuzzy, and the closeness of Skulduggery's face was muddling his train of thought for some reason. Had he ever been this close to the man? No, he didn't think so.

The dumb grin on his friend's face widened to the point where he almost looked… love-struck. "I think I've found him."

Confused, Erskine opened his mouth to ask Skulduggery what he meant, but before he could say anything, a pair of lips pressing against his own. He froze up in shock, fear racing through him as a vision of the gaol flashed in his mind, but when he felt gentle fingers entwining with his hair, he felt himself relax into the kiss. Electricity tingled along every nerve, his heart skipped several beats apiece, and a heated pleasure welled up inside him.

When Skulduggery pulled away, pained longing and bitter disappointment replaced the ecstasy, but the feeling relented slightly when Skulduggery released a throaty chuckle.

"Y' look sweet when you blush," Skulduggery mused, carefully readjusting the hat atop Erskine's head so that the brim was horizontal to the floor, whilst keeping out of his eyes. "Mind staying like that a little longer?"

Erskine mumbled something that even he himself didn't understand, but it was probably something stupid. His entire being buzzed, however it wasn't the alcohol. That kiss had swept away all his fears and concerns, and he wanted to feel that same bliss again.

Skulduggery smiled and carried on talking, but his voice had dropped to a whisper, as if he were sharing some sort of secret the way a young girl would. "There's this… person in the back of my head," he said, gently flicking a strand of hair from Erskine's face. "He's not too nice, but… he likes you. Gets all… riled up when you're around. Hehe… I guess I know why."

Wrapped up in longing as he was, Erskine didn't have the slightest idea what Skulduggery was going on about. Every touch sent blessed shocks through him, but it was nothing compared to what he'd experienced during that kiss, and he wanted more.

Without knowing what he was doing, Erskine leaned forward, head tilted to account for the inch that Skulduggery held over him and lips slightly parted. Skulduggery carefully wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into another kiss. Blistering euphoria sizzled in Erskine's veins, and he heard himself let out a small moan as he embraced the man in front of him.

Closing his eyes, everything went blank for a few moments until Erskine found himself lying on his back with someone on top of him. The delightful pleasure drained out of him, replaced with haunting panic that forced his eyes open as he pulled away anxiously. His fear must have shown, because Skulduggery gently cupped a hand around his cheek, softly shushing him.

"I wouldn't do that," he hushed, placing a tender kiss on Erskine's forehead. He felt himself relax immediately. Why was Skulduggery able to do this all of a sudden?

Carefully, Skulduggery shifted so that he was lying next to Erskine with his chin resting on the top of Erskine's head. His arms gently encircled the gold-eyed mage, and the contact made him feel fuzzy in his chest.

"See?" he confirmed, softly breathing into Erskine's hair. "I wouldn't hurt you."

As his fear slowly dissipated, Erskine allowed himself to rest his head against Skulduggery's collarbone. There was comfort in the warmth, and he lazily sank into it.

His last thoughts before sleep pulled him away from consciousness were about whether or not he'd remember this when morning came.

* * *

 **See why I was digging the grave?**

 **My (possibly) last dying wish is that you write a review to let me know what you think.**


	13. Chapter 12

**Oh? I lived to post another chapter? YAY!**

 **So, I've seen a distinct lack of Rasent/Skavel (Skulduggery/Ravel, thanks to LionsandTrolls for the names), and I intend to change that! In fact, I will make everyone else love this ship! (well, you don't have to, but it'd be nice to know I'm not alone)**

 **I've made more references to Bambi. Screw you, I write what I want!**

* * *

 **Chapter 12 – Twitterpated**

Skulduggery woke up with a bothersome headache and an uncomfortable churning in his stomach. The room was dark, signifying that it was clearly still late into the night or at least very early morning. Something warm was pressed against his chest, and when he looked down-.

Fuck.

Erskine was huddled up against his chest, fast asleep as if it were the most normal thing in the world, and Vile was chirring happily, as if this was something he wanted.

 _'_ _Stop that,'_ Skulduggery snapped. _'This is_ not _something you should be enjoying.'_

 _'_ _You like it, though,'_ Vile countered. _'And you and I are one and the same, so there's no excuse other than that_ we _enjoy his company.'_

Vile got a boot up the backside for that, and was promptly ignored whilst Skulduggery tried to figure out the best way to ease Erskine out of his arms. Clearly, he'd had a lot to drink; he'd _never_ let anyone get this close to him under normal circumstances. Just what had happened for him to allow this? He remembered Erskine leading him upstairs, and something to do with his hat, before Vile had suggested something to him, but he couldn't remember what it was exactly.

 _'_ _What did you do?'_ Skulduggery demanded.

 _'_ _How am I supposed to know? I got drunk with you!'_

A knot of anxiety formed in Skulduggery's insides, and he unconsciously tightened his embrace around Erskine. If he'd hurt his friend…

His movement stirred Erskine, and the other mage groaned softly as he blinked awake. Dreary gold eyes looked up at him, and Skulduggery was immediately cursing himself.

"Hmm," Erskine mumbled weakly. "Skulduggery, what..?"

"Go back to sleep, Erskine," Skulduggery hushed.

Grimacing, Erskine whined in discomfort and buried his face in Skulduggery's chest. "I can't," he complained. "I'm hungover."

"How much did you drink?"

"Three bottles. I didn't get that drunk, though. A bottle and a half, and _you_ were staggering around like a horse on drugs."

The smile in his voice was obvious, and Skulduggery was tempted to bat him over the head.

"I… I didn't do anything stupid, right?"

Erskine fell silent, and the knot tightened its hold on Skulduggery's guts.

"Erskine?"

Erskine took a deep breath, as if he was readying himself for something.

"If I hurt you, then-."

"You kissed me," Erskine said quickly. "And I liked it."

Skulduggery was frozen in place, but his heart was thundering at the speed of a racehorse at full gallop. Hot blood rushed to his face, turning his gaunt cheeks cherry red, and there was a gymnast performing flips in his already roiling stomach. Vile was over the fucking moon with this news, whooping gleefully as if he'd won the lottery, and had plans to buy a fancy slaughterhouse in which he could kill whomever he pleased.

"I, um, wha? I…" he blundered, completely tripping over his words as his tongue tied itself in knots, and his lips stopped working properly. "Huh?"

Erskine seemed to shrink pitifully in Skulduggery's arms, like a dog that was anticipating punishment. Nervously, he looked up at Skulduggery, only succeeding in making him blush even more and Vile giggle like a madman on a high.

"I… I didn't… force myself on you, did I?" Skulduggery asked worriedly. He still had his arms around Erskine, but right now, he didn't care.

"I… n-no. You… said some stuff about finding someone you wanted to, well… spend the rest of your life with, and then you kissed me."

Slowly, Skulduggery nodded as the image of a blushing Erskine wearing his hat at a skewed angle appeared in his head. Strangely enough, he found it quite adorable.

"I… yes, I remember now. You were wearing my hat. Then… then we kissed again."

Erskine nodded in confirmation as a blush formed itself on his face. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a headache suddenly washed over him, and the discomfort of his hangover fully set in. Groaning, he pushed Skulduggery away and sat up. His stomach ached painfully, and he didn't enjoy it.

"What's wrong?" Skulduggery asked, sitting up as well. In the back of his mind, Vile was whining in irritated confusion.

"Hangover," Erskine grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "Urgh, I need a drink."

Skulduggery nodded. His headache was bothering him, too. "Let's get to the kitchen," he suggested. "Get something to drink and maybe a snack."

"Okay."

Skulduggery gently guided a dizzy Erskine down to the kitchen. There, Skulduggery poured glasses of water for the both of them, and eagerly drank his own, clearing up his headache and easing the cramps in his stomach.

Erskine just stared into his glass, his expression blank and unchanging.

"Is everything okay, Erskine?" Skulduggery ventured, sitting at the table next to him. He observed the hopeless resignation he saw in Erskine's golden eyes. That look had been there when he'd fled to Dublin over the Wall in Mevolent's dimension, and times long before his sudden betrayal when Skulduggery caught him staring vacantly into nothingness. At first, he'd passed it off as nothing, but now he realised that it was something else.

At first, silence was his only answer, until Erskine just sighed weakly and shook his head. "I shouldn't have enjoyed it as much as I did," he stated blatantly. "I don't deserve that sort of bliss."

"What makes you say that?" Skulduggery asked quietly.

Erskine gritted his teeth in an attempt to hold back the bitter anger that was welling up inside him. "What do you think?"

"I think you're beating yourself up over nothing."

"How can it be nothing?!" Erskine demanded; eyes snapping to meet Skulduggery's. The blazing anger and self-loathing in them was unfathomable. "Everything I've done is proof that I don't deserve anything other than hatred, pain and… and abuse! I turned my back on you, I turned my back on everyone! For years, I cheated, lied and took advantage over everyone I came across. Without even the slightest hesitation, I turned around and _stabbed_ _Ghastly in the back_. When people needed me most; when I had the chance to make up for just a portion of what I did; I turned and ran because I was too selfish to think about anyone's safety other than my own. I'm a coward, a traitor and a maniac, and Darquesse had the right idea when she put me through that ungodly agony!"

By this point, Erskine was on his feet and enraged tears were streaming down his face. Skulduggery looked up at him sympathetically. His friend was hurt, and it was hurting him, too. It had always hurt.

"You don't mean that," he said quietly. "Erskine, you've paid the price for what you did more than once."

"Prove it! For God's sake, what the hell does everyone else see that I don't?!"

Standing up, Skulduggery firmly took hold of Erskine's arm and pulled the sleeve back, revealing the horrifying pattern of scars that marred the skin. Most of them were clearly the result of knife wounds, and someone had had the audacity to carve words such as 'bitch' and 'slut' into his flesh like a cattle brand.

"This is what I see, Erskine," Skulduggery said. "A victim. These people hurt you, and while you may have deserved it at first, they took it too far when they took advantage of you over and over again. Clarity did the one thing me and the others were too stubborn to do ourselves; they forgave you for your wrongs because when they looked past what you did, they saw a friend worth saving. In all honesty, I'm the one in the wrong, because I should've been a better friend."

Erskine was silent throughout Skulduggery's monologue, only staring at him in hopeless bewilderment as he tried to run his mind around what was being said. Skulduggery really thought he'd been put through enough? He'd actually forgiven him? Numb shock filled his chest as he was pulled into a hug.

"I've only seen the best of you since you arrived here with Clarity," Skulduggery continued, rubbing Erskine's back soothingly. "You've looked after Wolf as if he were your own, and not once have you turned your back on anyone. Look at yourself; you are clearly more than sorry for what you did, so stop thinking otherwise."

Both men locked eyes, and Skulduggery could see the internal war in Erskine's eyes as he struggled with Skulduggery's reason and the lies that his torturers had drummed into his mind.

"I… you really think..?" he stuttered, tears stinging his eyes again.

"I'm certain. And if you want any more convincing, then I guess I won't mind kissing you again."

That managed to bring a blush onto Erskine's face, along with an overly shocked expression. "I-I, um…" he stuttered, pulling away. To his surprise, Skulduggery was blushing, too.

"I suppose I always have liked you… sort of… I just… never realised how much," he admitted. "If you don't mind, then… maybe we could, um… y'know."

He was mumbling now, and his face looked like Valkyrie had gone overboard with red face paint on him. All Erskine could think was 'Damn, I forgot how cute he looks when his face does that. Wait, what? Gaagh! Stop it, brain!'

Chuckling, Erskine picked up his glass and took a long sip from it.

"Erskine, that's my drink," Skulduggery put out helpfully.

Erskine promptly gasped with a mouth full of water and choked on said water. Skulduggery simply laughed at his friend's (or whatever they were now) mistake. He may have been starting up a relationship, but that didn't stop him from being, well… him. When Erskine recovered his composure, he received a kiss for his troubles. It was short; only lasting a second; but sweet and managed to make both their lips tingle. Vile was letting Skulduggery know that _he_ was certainly enjoying it. And thus, a boot to the head was bequeathed.

"Feeling better?" Skulduggery asked softly when he pulled away. Erskine's cheeks were still damp, so he carefully wiped away the moisture with his thumb.

"Much," Erskine nodded, a smile gracing his features. Skulduggery concluded that he looked much more alive when he smiled these days, and made a mental note to encourage it.

"I've just realised something."

"What?"

Smiling, Skulduggery leaned in and whispered into Erskine's ear softly. "I think I'm twitterpated."

* * *

 **Did Skulduggery's argument against Erskine's rant seem justified? I hope it did, otherwise my morals are messed up.**

 **Fun fact: Erskine is suffering from something akin to Stockholme's Syndrome, which explains the major self loathing.**

 **Now review and make me feel good about myself!**


	14. Chapter 13

**You guys had better be grateful. I am sick; with a mind-numbing headache, blocked nose, sore throat and iffy stomach; right now, and not only am I posting a bloody chapter for you, I am threatening to make my condition worse by still writing this story, regardless of the fact that my fingers don't seem to be working properly. I almost passed out doing a 200 metre sprint today! Okay, maybe that was my fault. I shouldn't have run the risk when I actually had a choice to back out of it.**

 **Sorry about that. I wanted to complain for once. Usually I plough through stuff without objection, but it's not often that I'm this ill, and I've had exams this week, so I'm not in the best of moods at the moment.**

 **Enjoy the chapter, it's nice and long, just for you, with some interesting background info on Clarity and a small headcannon I came up with for Skulduggery that I hope you like (t's also an excuse to write fluffy stuff between him and the others). The romance at the end isn't all that great, and probably rather cliché, but I'm actually quite surprised that I actually managed to pull it off at all, despite never been in a proper romantic relationship like that before. I guess all that reading paid off.**

 **Oh, and before I close off this ridiculously long A.N, I'd like to suggest some songs that I think fit the Skulduggery Pleasant universe quite well. They're all by an artist called Aviators, and you can find them on YouTube. The first is 'Spectres', which I think would nicely fit Anton and Larrikin if you ship Shudderkin, and perhaps Skulduggery when he's in Necropolis, facing the acclaimed ghosts of his friends and family. The next is 'Freedom Cry', which kinda fits how the Irish Sanctuary refused to surrender to the treat of first Mevolent, then the Supreme Council. Finally, there's 'Building Better Worlds', which I suppose fits Roarhaven's revolution in some way.**

 **Let me know what you think of the chapter and those songs. Tell me if you agree about them fitting as well, or if the relation between them is just my mind playing up because I'm sick. Happy reading (and listening).**

 **~hrhowling**

* * *

 **Chapter 13 – The Moon Doth Glow Brightly**

Being part werewolf, Clarity was forced to transform every full moon. Thankfully, they didn't lose their mind like most other werewolves, however their primal instincts were heightened, and they had a tendency to isolate themselves from human company and seek out the attention of their pack. But since their pack consisted mostly of humans, it was often a game of Russian roulette. Some moons, they would be reasonably okay with the close contact, others, they'd go far enough as to attack the Alpha. Skulduggery currently had the privilege of that position.

Skulduggery found himself in a similar state of mind for some reason. It had always been an issue when he'd been alive, therefore it was a problem now. Apparently, he had werewolf ancestry somewhere along the lines, and he'd inherited the social tendencies of the beasts. In normal circumstances it wouldn't be a problem; he would just get particularly grouchy; but when it came to him, it was hardly normal circumstances. The bars of Vile's cage got weaker, and the nut-job's influence increased. It was hardly all that much, but still dangerous if something ticked him off enough.

Right now, he was curled up on the sofa with Erskine sprawled out next to him. Sitting beside him was Wolf, watching _'Bambi'_ yet again. It was late afternoon, and as the night of the full moon came closer, Skulduggery felt that familiar, annoying little itch manifesting in the back of his mind as Vile began getting irritable.

"What're you doing about tonight?" Erskine asked quietly at some point.

"Huh?" Skulduggery mumbled.

"It's a full moon for the next few nights. You remember how you get, don't you?"

"Oh yeah. I'll… I'll probably just lock myself up in my room so I don't try to hit anyone over the head."

Erskine nodded in understanding. "Fair enough."

Skulduggery looked down at him, curiosity glinting in his eyes. "Did you have another suggestion?" he asked. Since waking up with hangovers and realising that they'd developed feelings for each other, they'd been stuck on the fence as to what to do about it, and their relationship was at an unsure stage where neither of them knew how to act. Right now, they were just playing it by ear.

There was silence for a moment. "No, nothing," Erskine muttered.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

Skulduggery frowned, but didn't argue. "Okay."

* * *

The three all fell asleep halfway through a re-run of _'Pinocchio'_ (thankfully, Dexter wasn't there to butcher _'I've Got no Strings'_ this time), and didn't wake until late evening. Valkyrie had considered waking them up for dinner, but decided against it. Instead, she opted to take photos of sleeping trio and send the pictures to everyone so that they could laugh at how Skulduggery and Erskine looked like a married couple who'd just fallen asleep watching a family movie ( it was perfect blackmail material, too, she realised). Then she realised that Skulduggery and Erskine being a couple was actually a little weird, and maybe somewhat repulsive, considering what the latter had done. How everyone had managed to forgive him after just six years was ridiculous. She'd never understand the Dead Men, it seemed. That, or something had happened, and she was still in the dark about it.

Walking back into the kitchen, she was almost tripped over by Dingo and Husky, who both cannoned into her legs at a high speed whilst trying to make a quick getaway from something. They'd been more rambunctious than usual today. It seemed everyone was acting weird during the full moon. Skulduggery was getting irritable to the point where he had come close to hitting Saracen, Clarity had locked themselves in their room all day, and now two of the Pups were more hyper than they'd ever been before.

"Jesus," she exclaimed as the two Pups ran past her. "Is the full moon turning everyone nuts?"

"Actually, it's just the ones with lycanthropic qualities," Saracen said from where he was leaning against the counter with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand.

"I thought that was only Clarity. Okay, the Pups; maybe. But Skulduggery's never been like this before."

"He was more restrained in death," Saracen explained. "But before he returned as a skeleton, he'd act something like the way he is now every single month. Some moons, he refused to let anyone near him; others, he couldn't get enough of anyone. At one point he had the guts to try and snuggle up next to Anton. That was an awkward night for all present."

Valkyrie very well choked trying to hold in her laughter. "Really?" she questioned. "Any idea why?"

"I don't have all the details, but apparently Skulduggery has werewolf ancestry somewhere along the lines. Thankfully, the transformation gene didn't make itself known, and he doesn't go wolf every month. Only the social mind-set surfaces."

Nodding, Valkyrie took a moment to digest the information. "So on a full moon, keep him from hugging the suspects on a case."

Saracen chuckled. "Good idea."

"What's this about hugs?" Clarity grumbled as they walked in. "You'd better not be offering me one. I'm not in much of a hugging mood right now."

"You pulling an Anton tonight?" Saracen joked. Clarity just gave him a blank stare and remained silent until the cheeky smirk left Saracen's face. "Sorry. Let me guess; you've been cooped up for too long."

"Much too long," Clarity confirmed. They turned to Valkyrie, and she could see the animalistic tension in their violet eyes. The beast that lurked within was clearly extremely volatile, liable to snap at any minute; willing to bite the hand that fed it if necessary. "You don't mind if I take liberty of your property and maybe hunt something tonight, do you? I need to run. Do _something_ to make sure I don't try and chew on someone's limbs this month."

"Go right ahead," Valkyrie said.

"Thanks. You know; Gordon used to fence off areas for me to hunt in. Said that if I damaged a piece of his estate, I'd have to pay for it. And he actually did make me do that once when I scratched up his car trying to get a rabbit I'd been chasing."

"Sounds like him. Look, just do whatever you want, I could hardly care less."

"Thanks. I'm probably going to turn at about ten. Don't worry, I don't go crazy like the usual werewolf does."

"That's a relief. Hey, if the Pups wind up wolfing out as well, can you take them out as well?"

"That's fine. It'll give me something to do."

"Thanks."

* * *

Erskine woke up courtesy of something cold and wet on his face. Mumbling in protest, he tried to push away the nuisance that was trying to wake him up. Surprisingly, thick fur was what met his hand.

Frowning, he cracked open his eyes to see a canine face with big, golden eyes gazing at him from a furry mass that lay on his chest.

"Wolf?" he mumbled, propping himself up on his elbows to properly look at the small lycanthrope that lay on top of him; about the size of a young Irish Wolfhound. Soft, fuzzy fur covered it from head to toe, and a small black nose tipped its long muzzle. Familiar gold eyes gazed up at Erskine with open curiosity that always seemed to perk up whenever something new appeared.

"Wolf," Erskine confirmed, and the werewolf pup's tail swished from side to side playfully. He pawed at Erskine's chest gently, and the gold-eyed mage smiled with fondness. "So we've got three little lycanthropes, now, hmm? Well, I'm guessing Husky and Dingo are lupines as well."

Wolf's tail wagged harder, and he eagerly rubbed his head against Erskine's face. Chuckling, Erskine reciprocated the affection and scratched him behind the ears, surprised by how tame the little Pup was. Even young werewolves were somewhat wild during the full moon. Unless Wolf was like Clarity, then that would explain it.

The soft padding of paws against the floor interrupted him, and he looked at the door to see Clarity standing there in their wolf form, watching amusedly.

"If you weren't human right now, then I'd see a proud young wolf and his cub together, socialising whilst a brother dozes next to them," the black wolf remarked, a small smirk gracing their muzzle.

"You… you what?" Erskine queried, sitting up properly, causing Wolf to slide onto his lap.

Clarity looked away. "Forget I said anything," they murmured. "Look, I'm going out, and I reckon it'd do Wolf some good to stretch his legs, too. Husky and Dingo are likely the same."

Erskine nodded in understanding. "No problem," he said, then turned to Wolf. "Clarity's taking you out for a walk tonight, okay?"

The Pup glanced between Erskine and Clarity uncertainly, but eventually he nodded and allowed Clarity to walk over and pick him up in their jaws by the scruff of his neck. They did it with precise, instinctive care, as if they'd been doing it for years. Wolf whined a little bit, but quieted when he stopped swinging about.

"I'll see you in the morning," Erskine said. Clarity gave short growl in response, and their eyes flickered over to Skulduggery momentarily, then back to him. "I'll keep him out of trouble tonight. Trust me, I've dealt with him on nights like these before."

"Kay. Whaddif he hugs you, an' won' le' go?"

God, Erskin hoped he wasn't blushing. "Again; I've dealt with it."

Nodding, Clarity turned and left the room. After placing Wolf in the entrance hall, they quickly dashed upstairs where they found Dexter and Saracen frantically trying to reign in two small werewolves in the kids' bedroom. One silver-blonde, the other dark grey; both bundles of trouble.

"Clarity," Dexter whined as he flopped over the bed. "Help us."

Sighing, Clarity entered the room fully; their imposing stature making Saracen shrink a little. Clarity was a terrifying sight when shifted. A sharp bark caught the Pups' attention, and they stopped in their tracks when Clarity fixed them with a commanding glare.

"You two;" they growled imperatively; "we're going for a walk."

There was no hesitation as the two werewolves quickly darted over to Clarity's paws. Dexter and Saracen just stared at them in disbelief.

"What..?" Dexter gaped.

Clarity just shrugged. "They know better than to mess with a wolf of a higher rank, I guess," they said, and walked out with the younger werewolves. The two Dead Men were left in stunned silence until Saracen broke it.

"The… the cheek!" he stuttered. "They just declared themselves _and those little troublemakers_ to be a higher rank than us! I object! I seriously object, dammit!"

Back downstairs, Clarity quietly opened the front door and allowed the Pups out first before exiting the mansion and closing it behind them. Husky and Dingo looked ready to bolt off into the undergrowth, but a low growl from the bigger lycanthrope stilled them. Wolf stuck close to Clarity, but his eyes were wide and curious as he took in everything. He hadn't been out at night before, and the moon was glowing brightly in a crystal clear sky decorated with glittering stars tonight, creating a picturesque scene that few got to see.

"Come on," Clarity called good-naturedly, trotting off into the woods with the Pups hot on their heels. "Let's go chase some rabbits."

* * *

Erskine really hoped he wasn't being creepy when he found himself thinking that Skulduggery looked sweet when he slept. Aside from the occasional twitch and the fact that he looked somewhat anaemic in his weakened state, he was peaceful where he was; curled up on the sofa. But in all honesty, he looked a little cold.

 _Maybe I can…_ Erskine ventured, but then he shook his head. No. He couldn't; his relationship with Skulduggery was confusing, and he didn't want to make a wrong move, especially when his temper was this volatile.

So he just sat next to Skulduggery in silence, flicking through channels on the television to keep himself occupied, and casting frequent glances in the detective's direction. He looked… vulnerable. As if he was fighting against something and barely keeping it back.

At some point, Skulduggery started muttering quietly, and the twitches became violent kicks. Worrying he'd end up hurting himself, Erskine tentatively reached out and shook his shoulder until he woke up. When the detective opened his eyes, Erskine saw the feral anger that simmered behind a wall of regret in those violet depths. Truth be told, it scared him.

The anger quickly faded to a dull annoyance when Skulduggery's eyes focused on Erskine. Uncurling from his position, he stretched out his thin legs and yawned widely. Erskine noticed that his canine teeth were slightly sharper than usual. Another side effect of his lupine ancestry, no doubt.

"You okay?" Erskine asked quietly. "You seemed restless just a moment ago."

Shaking his head, Skulduggery shifted over to Erskine and rested his head on Erskine's lap. "I'm fine," he muttered. "Just a bad dream."

Erskine just nodded, but he was silently contemplating if he should kiss the man, however he didn't. He still wasn't sure of how to behave in this relationship.

"What're you watching?" Skulduggery asked as Erskine flicked through another channel.

"Something," Erskine muttered bluntly. "Whatever catches my interest."

"Not the news channels then," Skulduggery quipped, a small smirk meeting his face. "They always start with 'good evening', then proceed to tell you why it's not."

Erskine chuckled and skipped some more channels. "Truer words were never spoken."

"What's that?" Dexter asked loudly as he and Saracen both strode in and flopped onto the couch adjacent to Erskine and Skulduggery. They hardly took notice of the position that the two men were in. Weirder things had happened with Skulduggery on the full moon; this was positively tame.

"Mortal news channels," Skulduggery said. His tone was perky, but there was suspicion sparking in his eyes at the sight of the two Dead Men. "They talk too much shit."

Saracen shrugged. "True that. Skip this one, it's got a rerun of some crap movie I've seen before coming up. I needed to bleach my eyes it was that bad."

"If it's that bad, then we should definitely avoid it," Dexter agreed. Erskine immediately pressed the channel button again, and the Simpsons Movie was suddenly on; only ten minutes in.

"Finally!" Saracen cried, leaning back into the sofa. "Entertainment!"

Skulduggery rolled his eyes and got up, leaving the room. "I'm going to bed," he muttered. There was clear tension in his voice, and no one objected. Clearly, he was getting pissed off by the moon's effects.

Erskine watched him go, and decided that it was time he turned in as well. After mumbling a quick 'good-night' to Saracen and Dexter, he stood up and left. At the top of the stairs, he found Skulduggery waiting in the hallway.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, getting a nod from the detective.

"I was hoping I could sleep with you tonight," Skulduggery said quietly. "I don't think I can sleep on my own right now."

Blood rushed, unprompted, to Erskine's face, and his tongue seemed to tie itself in knots, but he managed to untangle it and stutter a nervous 'yes' in reply. Skulduggery's eyes immediately lit up with gratitude and yearning, and he eagerly followed Erskine into his bedroom. That actually sounded a little wrong…

 _Mind out of the gutter, buddy,_ Vile snickered.

 _Fuck you,_ Skulduggery spat back. _I did_ not _have those intentions, you filthy bastard._

 _Fair enough._

Ignoring Vile's voice, Skulduggery sat on the bed as he waited for Erskine to finish getting changed in the bathroom. He didn't feel the need to get changed himself; the tracksuit and shirt that he had on right now would do for tonight, and he honestly didn't want to distance himself from Erskine at the moment. Another thing with the social habits of werewolves; closeness to others kept them stable.

When Erskine came back in, he was wearing boxers and a short-sleeved shirt, and Skulduggery felt anger – his _and_ Vile's – burning in his chest when he saw the scars littering Erskine's legs.

"Those bastards didn't know when to leave well enough alone, didn't they?" Skulduggery growled. Erskine didn't say anything as Skulduggery stood up and wrapped his arms around him, rubbing his face in the gold-eyed mage's messy brown hair. The anger slowly dissipated; replaced by a different kind of heat that he felt in Erskine's body, too. "It's okay," he promised. "I'll protect you."

Erskine nodded, returning the hug. He trusted Skulduggery fully. Tentatively, he reached up and cupped the back of Skulduggery's head and pulled him into a kiss that he gladly reciprocated. Pleasure rocketed through his veins, and he found himself caressing the smaller mage's face, mapping the smooth curve of his jaw and the arch of his cheekbones with one hand, and the other wrapping around Erskine's waist and pulling him closer. The kiss deepened, and Erskine tightened his grip on Skulduggery, moaning in eagerness. He needed this. He needed Skulduggery.

Skulduggery felt his hands trailing downwards, and quickly pulled away, breaking the kiss. A needy whine escaped Erskine's lips, and lustful eyes gazed up at Skulduggery with disappointed confusion.

"Why'd you stop?" he asked, dazed by the sheer euphoria of the kiss.

Unexpected fear brimmed in Skulduggery's eyes, and he stepped back. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered softly.

"What do you mean?"

Shaking his head, Skulduggery dropped on to the bed with his face buried in his hands. "I almost tried something with you. I shouldn't have even thought about it."

"It's okay," Erskine consoled, sitting down next to Skulduggery and pulling his hands away from his face and rubbing their noses together tenderly. "I know you won't do anything like that."

They stared into each other's eyes for a while; and Skulduggery reflected on how much this seemed like one of those cheesy soul-searching moments that Valkyrie kept moaning about when talking about those romance movies she liked to watch. What were they called? Oh yeah, chick flicks. Erskine taught him about them.

"I need you," Erskine murmured, placing a lingering kiss on Skulduggery's cheek. "Please. You understand. I feel safe around you, and you make me feel loved. No one's made me feel like that before. I love you."

His words set of something inside Skulduggery, and he swiftly leaned in to kiss and nuzzle Erskine's neck tenderly. He could smell aftershave and a warm, sweet, musky scent that made his senses tingle, and left Vile a keening mess in the back of his mind. It took all of his willpower not to collapse into a squirming pile on top of Erskine's lap that wanted nothing more than a scratch behind the ears and a belly rub. Okay, that was weird.

Erskine was overwhelmed by the suddenness of Skulduggery's shower of affection, but he was very quickly flooded with bliss as he was coaxed into the detective's arms that entwined themselves around him. Lying back onto the bed, he allowed Skulduggery to embrace him lovingly. Soft kisses peppered his face; which he eagerly returned.

"I love you too," Skulduggery whispered into his ear. "You're the only one who can tame this beast inside me; the part of me that wants to hurt others. That's the side of me that's always known you meant more to me than a friend of a brother, but I've never listened until recently. I need you as well."

Erskine smiled warmly as he cupped a hand around Skulduggery's cheek. Tears of gratitude stung at his eyes, and he rested his head against his newfound lover's chest. "Thank you," he breathed.

"Thank _you_ ," Skulduggery said softly, wiping away the tears and tenderly hugging Erskine in a protective embrace. "And I mean it; I love you."

* * *

 **Did I do good?**


	15. Chapter 14

**I have good news! I'm not sick any more!**

 **To LionsandTrolls: Don't worry, I don't mind if you forget to review, but it's still nice that you do. 'Spectres' made you cry? Oh, god, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for that to happen! And yeah, my internet is a bitch like that as well. Glad you found the last chapter cute. :)**

 **Another long chapter ahead! More reasons for you to hate me! I will ignore the shotgun you are aiming at my head if you review!**

* * *

 **Chapter 14 – Volatile**

Lancing sunlight streamed through the gaps in the mighty tree's roots; striking Clarity's eyelids and rudely awakening them. Growling in irritation, they lifted their head to glare up at the sky and the fiery orb hanging in it that dared to wake them. Surprisingly, there was a weight resting on their back that refused to go away. Looking back, their eyes found a furry brown body, sound asleep without a care in the world. Two more were sprawled out next to them, the blond one snoring quietly, and the other one kicking his hind legs about in some sort of dream. Well, that was what happened when you fell asleep in the hollow of a tree with three werewolf cubs in tow.

Clarity chuckled softly. Standing up on all fours, they were careful not to dislodge Wolf from their back or disturb Dingo and Husky. They stretched their long limbs to ease out the stiffness that morning always brought and slowly padded out of the hollow, into the shaded brightness of the estate woods. It was a warm morning; surprisingly so; considering that it was early November. The soft songs of birds echoed through the trees; merging into one bright, cheerful melody that charmed Clarity's ears; warm, earthy scents pervaded their nostrils, the lingering taste of last night's prey could still be detected on their tongue, and a soft breeze whistled through the air, ruffling their fur.

Smiling, Clarity craned their neck to prod Wolf with their nose. A soft whine escaped the small Pup as he blinked awake, much like Erskine did when he woke up first thing in the morning.

"Morning, sleepyhead," the black wolf crooned, drawing the brown one's attention. "Still a little tired?"

Wolf nodded and yawned widely, showing off small, sharp white teeth.

"Let's get back to Valkyrie and the others, then, okay? Now how about we wake up your brothers."

* * *

Back at the house, Valkyrie was surprised to see four werewolves at her door, but after an explanation from Clarity about how the full moon kept them transformed during the days it reigned over as well as the nights, she relaxed. After depositing the three Pups in the living room to eat breakfast with Dexter and Saracen, Clarity went upstairs to shower and get rid of the smell of dirt and wash off the mud on their feet. Once done, their pelt was still damp, but not dripping wet. They'd fastened their favourite purple-and-black neckerchief around their neck and slipped on their Necromancy vessel in its usual place on their right arm before heading back downstairs in pursuit of the tantalising aroma of bacon.

Skulduggery was in the kitchen, being taught how to fry bacon and eggs properly. Hardly anything unusual, but Clarity's heightened senses picked up a whiff of something they hadn't expected to find on the Skeleton Detective. Erskine's scent radiated off of Skulduggery's body, as if they'd been in close contact recently. _Very_ close contact.

Eyes narrowed, Clarity skulked in the corner as they waited for Erskine to come downstairs. They didn't have to wait long, because five minutes later, the man in question entered the kitchen and sat down at the table. Skulduggery glanced back and offered him a small smile in greeting that he returned, but Valkyrie's eyes just flickered in his direction before she completely ignored him. That wasn't what aroused Clarity's suspicion. Erskine had Skulduggery's scent all over him, just like Skulduggery had his. It took a lot of willpower not to growl at the detective.

Still, there was nothing to stop them from sending a subtle _nudge_ to Skulduggery's mind. Another werewolf talent; mild telepathy between certain members of their pack that was limited to the sensations of emotions and occasionally a simple image. It required either eye contact or a powerful bond between the parties involved, but even then, it required a lot of practise and a strong mind.

Skulduggery felt the nudge just as well as anyone with even part of a lycanthrope's mind. He sensed irritation and protective fury.

"What do you want, Clarity?" Skulduggery growled, turning towards his relative.

A low snarl was his answer. "You. Upstairs. Now. We need to talk."

Frowning, Skulduggery followed his disgruntled werewolf charge out of the kitchen and upstairs into Clarity's room. Once the door was shut, he turned towards them and saw them pacing around and sending frustrated snarls in his direction.

"Mind telling me what this is about?" he asked apathetically.

"Mind me asking why you and Erskine reek of each other this morning?" Clarity bit back. "Because if _you_ have done something, then I'll beat you to-."

"Excuse me? But since when did you become Erskine's mother?"

"When you left him to be used like some sort of-."

"That was _not_ my fault! I had no idea what was happening to him, and-."

"And if you had found out, you would have left him there anyway!"

"And abandoned him to a fate worse than the death I _begged_ for?! I know what it's like, Clarity, I would _never_ have left him to suffer through that if I knew! A month and I was already desperate to depart. Six years? Death would have been just as much a blessing as someone coming to rescue him."

Clarity froze up, their eyes locked with Skulduggery's. He could _feel_ the shock and disbelief battering at his mind, see the occasional flash of a picture depicting him as a warrior. Strong, unbreakable and untouched, despite the darkness that shrouded him. Not something that could be used like _that_.

"You don't know everything about me," he said quietly, breaking Clarity out of their shock.

"I… I see. But that still doesn't explain why you both smell as if you slept together last night."

Skulduggery sighed. "Because we did. I asked him if he could keep me company for the night because… urgh, why do I have to tell you?"

"Because he's my responsibility and under my custody. He might seem alright now, but make one wrong move, and he becomes a scared cub all over again, just like when I hauled him out of that hellhole. So I'll ask you again; what exactly went on last night?"

Rolling his eyes, Skulduggery sat on the bed, frustrated. "We talked, shared a bed and that was it. Hardly anything we're not accustomed to."

"Excuse me?"

"We shared tents during the war. Nightmares were fairly common; still are."

"So you slept together to avoid nightmares. Fair enough. Anything else I should know about?"

Skulduggery hesitated. "Nothing comes to mind."

"You hesitated, so clearly there is something."

"Something that is nothing of your concern. I'll talk you when it is."

"Are you trying to provoke me into eating you?"

Skulduggery rolled his eyes. "It's between me and Erskine, okay?"

"Fine. Don't tell me. Just don't let Erskine get hurt. If you do, then I'll make you _pay_."

"Not unless I get there first. Trust me, I can hold a good grudge against myself."

"So I've heard."

"So you understand. Good. Now let's go back downstairs so I can carry on learning to cook food that I can't eat."

Clarity growled softly, but didn't attack him, so he took it as a sign that he was good to go.

"Fine. But remember what I said. He's family to me. A member of my pack. And pack members protect each other."

Nodding, Skulduggery followed Clarity back to the kitchen where Erskine was still being ignored by Valkyrie. Better than being smacked over the head at least.

"Okay," Skulduggery announced, catching Valkyrie's attention. "Where were we?"

* * *

After breakfast, Skulduggery chose to sulk in the living room on the armchair that he deemed 'his.' The reason why was because Valkyrie had suggested he tried eating eggs since he was recovering quite well, and he'd complied. No less than half an hour of stomach cramps later, he was grovelling at the foot of the porcelain throne and reminiscing not-so-old memories with the partially digested remains of his breakfast.

He was nauseous, lonely and bored. Not a good combination. Valkyrie was off doing a case (without him, might he add), Saracen and Dexter were shopping for food and other necessities, Clarity was taking the Pups for a walk and Erskine was taking a ridiculously long shower upstairs.

Hold that last one. He heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Finally.

Ignoring the lingering ache in his stomach, Skulduggery straightened his posture and turned his head towards the door, only to see a fully clothed yet somewhat bedraggled Erskine stride in and drop onto the sofa. Concerned, Skulduggery watched as his boyfriend (there was no need to dodge the term any more) tangled his fingers in his hair and started muttering nervously. His hands were shaking, and he looked as if he'd barely dried himself off then donned the closest piece of clothing he could find before coming down.

"Erskine?" Skulduggery ventured, standing up and tentatively walking over. "Is something wrong?"

"I… I don't know," Erskine stammered, not even looking up at Skulduggery, and simply returning to his querulous nattering. Troubled by this, Skulduggery sat down next to him, heeding any sign that might forebode a violent outburst, and gently rubbed wide circles on his back in an attempt to soothe him. Surely enough, the shaking ceased, and Erskine's incomprehensible monologue was brought to a close. Satisfied that most of the panic had relented, Skulduggery pulled him into a tender embrace, placing an affectionate kiss on his cheek.

"Better?" he asked, nuzzling Erskine's neck lovingly. His skin was warm yet damp, and Skulduggery could feel the steady thudding of his heart through his chest, but his hair was soaked and still dripping down into the back of his shirt, leaving the garment sodden.

"Much," Erskine said, relaxing back into Skulduggery and letting his body heat envelope him. "I think something's off with the heating in this place. The water just turned cold all of a sudden and I panicked. The showers were always freezing back there."

He shivered slightly and pressed up against Skulduggery a little more. God, he really didn't want to relive those memories if he couldn't help it.

"It's okay, love," Skulduggery consoled, kissing him again. "Listen, let's dry you off properly, shall we?"

Smiling, Erskine turned around so that he was facing Skulduggery and eagerly kissed him on the lips. His affections were quickly returned, and intentions of returning to Erskine's bathroom were momentarily forgotten as they were both enraptured in each other. Once again, Skulduggery embraced him lovingly and ran his hands across Erskine's back gently, making sure to avoid going any lower.

After a minute or so, they pulled away, both blushing heavily.

"Hmm," Skulduggery mused quietly. "You're a good kisser."

"As are you," Erskine remarked, running his fingers through his hair, which was still soaked. "I should really go dry myself off."

"I would certainly recommend you did. Come on."

Standing up, Skulduggery attempted to pull Erskine to his feet after him, but the moment Erskine saw his muscles straining a little too much for comfort, he rose to his feet himself. Looking at the detective, he saw yet again how thin he was, and the clear fatigue in his eyes.

"Don't strain yourself," he said solemnly. "As much as it frustrates you, you have limits, and right now, it'd be dangerous to try and push them. Okay?"

"Okay."

Erskine smiled, squeezing Skulduggery's hand gently. Following him upstairs, he noticed how Skulduggery's legs weren't as shaky as they used to be whenever he was forced to climb up them. Maybe the limits could be pushed a little, seeing as how they were gradually moving forward anyway.

Up in Erskine's en suite bathroom, Skulduggery quickly grabbed a towel and proceeded to dry him off. He started off with his hair, which was still absolutely sodden; gently tousling the brown mop so that it was scattered all over Erskine's face.

"I can dry myself off, you know," Erskine protested, trying to escape the towel, but Skulduggery saw the small smile on his face. "Hey. Heh, stop."

"I'm almost done with your hair," Skulduggery said, a small smirk reaching his features. "Just hold still."

The words sent a faint chill down Erskine's spine, but he ignored it when Skulduggery finished drying his hair and ruffled it gently.

"There; finished. Now for the rest of you."

The chill turned into a blade of ice that cut into Erskine's back and shot through his skull, and he backed away in terror. Pain rang through his mind and tears stung his eyes as memories came at him full throttle. Darkness ate at the corners of his vision and the tiled white bathroom walls flickered in and out of sight, replaced by a dank, dark cell. From the shadows of the room, voices hissed at him, whispering dark threats and promising agony and shame upon him.

 _"_ _I'm not done with you, bitch. Gotta do the rest of you."_

 _"_ _Quit squirming, you little shit! Hold still!"_

"N-no," Erskine whimpered, backing into the corner in a futile attempt to escape. "No, no, no, no, _no_! Please, stop it! I'm sorry!"

 _Fuck,_ Skulduggery cursed silently, dropping the towel and slowly approaching Erskine. _What the fuck have I done?_

"Erskine," Skulduggery ventured carefully. "Erskine, what's wrong?"

By now, Erskine had shrank down to the floor and curled up into a shaking mess of fear and helplessness, hiding behind his hands and flinching away from unseen horrors. Tears streamed down his face uncontrollably as he cried out in terror whenever something in his head seemed to strike out at him.

 _"_ _What's wrong, slut? You want me to screw you over some more? That can be arranged."_

"No, no more, I beg of you!" Erskine wailed as phantom agony that felt all too real lanced through him. "Please, stop!"

Skulduggery felt his own resolve buckle slightly, but he refused to let it break and instead racked his brain to come up with a way to coax Erskine back into reality. Vile was being a ton of help (note the sarcasm), yelling at him to think of something and put an end to Erskine's pain without suggesting anything himself.

He had to think. What did he know about PTSD? Very little, that was what. He'd never suffered from it himself, and neither had he known anyone to be struck by an attack; especially one as violent as this. Goddammit! Why did he have to be so ignorant of human minds?!

 _'Think, you idiot!'_ Vile screamed.

 _'You're no help, bitch!'_

"Erskine," Skulduggery called out, trying to catch Erskine's attention. Kneeling in front of his shaking form, he cautiously reached out and placed a hand on his. It was no surprise when Erskine flinched away and cried out. Clearly, he'd have to take an alternate course of action.

Worried beyond measure, Skulduggery went over to check the cupboard for something that would help. Aftershave, toothbrush, toothpaste, razors and shaving cream. Damn, there's nothing!

 _Wait!_ Vile interrupted. _Bottom shelf, behind the shaving cream._

Skulduggery looked where Vile had specified, and found a small perfume bottle hidden away in the corner. It was filled with a colourless liquid, and there was a miniscule label attached to it with the words _'For reality'_ printed onto it.

Reality…

Grabbing the bottle, Skulduggery immediately proceeded to spray its contents around the room. The strong smell of mint filled the air, and he felt his own panic begin to lessen. Erskine's shaking fit slowly subsided to a certain point. He was still trembling and crying but he seemed to have reached a state of mind that was approachable. Again, Skulduggery attempted to reach him.

"Erskine," he said quietly, reaching out again. "Erskine, it's okay. Please. Talk to me."

"Please," Erskine begged, still hiding behind his hands and shivering. "Just make it stop. I'm so sorry."

"I know," Skulduggery whispered, resting a hand on Erskine's shoulder. As expected, he flinched, but thankfully he didn't lash out or start screaming. "I know you're sorry. It's okay. You're safe."

Carefully, he shifted next to Erskine and held him close, rubbing his back in comforting circles like he had earlier. There was no protest, no desperate yelling, just continuous sobbing and violent tremors thrumming across his chest. It hurt to see him like this, and Skulduggery wanted nothing more than to take the pain for him.

"No one's going to hurt you," Skulduggery promised. "I'll make sure of it. Do you trust me to do that?"

Erskine just whimpered, wrapped his arms around Skulduggery's waist and cried into his chest. Tears soaked his shirt, but it honestly didn't matter. Shirts could be replaced, and this one was hardly worth getting in a bother about.

"Hey," Skulduggery coaxed, kissing the top of Erskine's head tenderly. "Everything's okay, see? It's just me, and I'm really sorry. I wasn't careful enough, and I hurt you. I'll be more careful from now on. I promise."

"It wasn't your fault," Erskine murmured. "You didn't know how volatile I am."

"I should have, though. Listen, you can dry yourself off. I'll be outside."

"Stay," Erskine said suddenly, his grip on Skulduggery tightening. "Please."

"Are you sure?"

Erskine nodded. "Yes."

Sighing, Skulduggery consented and carefully stood up, Erskine following suit. Skulduggery picked up the discarded towel and held it out to Erskine, who was in the process of pulling his shirt off. Skulduggery had to fight the urge to growl in frustration at the sight of all those scars.

"You do it," Erskine said quietly, catching Skulduggery by surprise.

"Are you sure? I don't want to make things worse."

Erskine nodded. "Like you, I have limits," he explained. "Only I'm not sure where they lie yet."

"So you want to test the waters," Skulduggery finished.

"Yes."

Reluctantly, Skulduggery nodded in consent and gently started rubbing the towel across Erskine's back in calming circles, drying off the slick coating of water that covered his skin. The gold-eyed mage tensed momentarily, but when Skulduggery wrapped a protective arm around his torso, he relaxed, allowing Skulduggery to continue. He was pulled close to Skulduggery's chest when his back was dry, and the towel was moved to his front.

"You okay?" Skulduggery asked as he continued to mop away the water.

"I'm fine," Erskine murmured, leaning back into Skulduggery's embrace. He frowned. "You're so thin. I can feel your ribs."

The calming motions of the towel slowed, but didn't stop. "I'll be alright," Skulduggery said. "I'm still recovering, remember?"

Once Erskine's chest was completely dried off, both men exited the bathroom, and Erskine immediately pulled on a black turtleneck, making sure the collar obscured the scars on his neck.

"You keep hiding those," Skulduggery mused, bringing Erskine into a tender hug. "Why?"

Erskine fell silent for a moment, shame and apprehension evident in his eyes. "I'm not proud of them," he whispered. "They're reminders."

Skulduggery nodded in understanding and leaned in for a kiss. It was brief, but enough to tell Erskine that everything was okay, and he didn't need to delve further into the memories.

"It's okay, love. It's okay."

* * *

 **Is it safe to come out yet?**


	16. Chapter 15

**Hee! I'm making so much progress! And I'm not even being sarcastic!**

 **To LionsandTrolls: *grins like a maniac* I am one step closer to not being alone! *tilts head in confusuion* I... I don't see the pun. Do you mean 'coming out of the closet'? If so, then... I dunno, I'm not all that offended. And somebody get a prize for spellcheck! ( _that_ was sarcasm)**

 **You guys... may or may not like me for this chapter...**

* * *

 **Chapter 15 – Love is no Sin**

That night, Skulduggery and Erskine slept together again, regardless of Clarity's threats as to what would happen should the former hurt the gold-eyed mage. The black werewolf in question was asleep on one of the living room sofas with the three Pups piled on top of each other nearby. Luckily for them, Valkyrie had no qualms against dog hair getting on the cushions. In her own room, the girl in black was snoozing with Xena at her feet. At the end of the hallway, Saracen could be heard snoring quietly, and in the room adjacent, Dexter had fallen off of his bed in a tangle of toned limbs and crumpled bedsheets.

It had to be extremely late into the night when Erskine was woken up by whimpers and twitches from Skulduggery. His sleeping draught may have aided him in attaining sleep, but it didn't make him any less of a light sleeper.

"Skulduggery," he murmured, gently shaking his lover's shoulder gently in an attempt to rouse him. "Skulduggery, wake up."

"P-Papa, I'm s…s-sorry," Skulduggery moaned, his features twisted in a childish mask of fear. "P-please, I-I… I d-didn't m-m-mean to."

He continued to shake and mutter the same apology over and over again for several minutes until Erskine managed to wake him up. Dread brimmed in his eyes and he looked like a wild animal waiting to bolt.

"Skulduggery, it's okay," Erskine soothed, smoothing away a strand of blond hair from Skulduggery's face. "It's just a dream."

"Memory," Skulduggery mumbled, sitting up and perching on the side of the bed. "A… a really horrible memory."

Frowning, Erskine manoeuvred himself so that he was sat next to Skulduggery. He was shaking ever so slightly, and refusing to meet Erskine's eyes.

"What did he do?" Erskine asked, his voice taking on a slight edge that demanded an answer. "What happened?"

Silence. No sound save for Skulduggery's stuttering breaths.

Erskine tried again. "Skulduggery, please tell me. Your father wasn't what one would call a 'good parent' these days, and this isn't the first time you've had nightmares about him. Be honest with me now."

There was a hesitation, but Skulduggery finally managed to gather up his words. "I… I was… fourteen. There was a… a-a stable hand who… who I grew close to. He could talk to animals, and d-didn't mind my stutter. Nice boy, respectable family, too. My age. I… well, I…"

"Go on," Erskine coaxed, shifting closer. He was tempted to bring Skulduggery into a hug, but he didn't seem to be in the best state of mind at the moment.

"I-I d-developed a crush on him," Skulduggery blurted. "I… I had no idea what was… was happening to me. I-I'd never… l-liked another male like that before. S-so… so I told my father, and… h-he was furious."

A knot of anxiety tangled itself in Erskine's stomach, and he anticipated the worst.

"He had a… a letter opener… A sword-shaped one. He… he cut my face with it." Skulduggery pointed to a long, curving scar that ran alongside the right side of his nose and tapered out towards his mouth. The lack of finesse showed that it had been a blow fuelled by pure rage and little else. "A-and carved a cross into m-my arm." He pulled back the left sleeve of his shirt to reveal the exact mark in question. Clearly, that one had been inflicted with a solid purpose. "S-said that it was to… to get rid of the devil th-that possessed me."

Skulduggery's stutter would have been adorable under any other circumstances, but the violent tremors of his body and utter terror in his voice just stabbed Erskine in the heart. It was common knowledge that Skulduggery's father had always been a powerful mage with a strong influence over many who entered his presence, very, _very_ strict on tradition with his own beliefs as to what was right and what was wrong, and perhaps a little influenced by religion, too.

"I-I didn't see the s-stable hand again, either," Skulduggery continued. "I d-don't know what… what Father did. To him… what I did, and… and what I'm doing with you right now… is just wrong. A sin. U-unnatural."

His words tugged at Erskine's chest painfully, and the gold-eyed mage felt doubt creeping in again. Maybe he should break off his relationship with Skulduggery. Clearly, their pasts prevented them from going any further, and it would just lead to heartache if they tried.

But no, fought back the other part of him. The part that had been worn away to almost nothing for the past six years. No, he wouldn't let the past and a few shitty nightmare memories ruin this for him or Skulduggery. They needed each other right now, regardless of what anyone else said.

"Skulduggery," he said, catching the detective's attention. Immediately, he pulled him into a searing kiss. Blazing electricity crackled along his nerves, and he felt Skulduggery practically melt into him. A gentle hand cupped his face tenderly, caressing him fondly, and Skulduggery's free arm wrapped around Erskine's waist, pulling him closer. Bliss filled them both, and it seemed like an eternity until they pulled away.

"Did that feel unnatural?" Erskine asked, receiving a shake of the head in reply. "Then your father was wrong. You're not possessed, or whatever those old fossils think."

"I know," Skulduggery smiled, kissing Erskine's forehead softly. "I stopped caring about gaining his respect a long time ago, even if he does still scare the crap out of me."

"So you understand?"

"I've always understood. You won't be losing me any time soon."

Smirking, Skulduggery pulled Erskine into another eager kiss, which ended in him pushing the younger mage onto his back, where he continued to snog him passionately. Enraptured as he was, Erskine found himself grabbing the front of Skulduggery's shirt and pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. The detective was on top of him, smothering him with affection to the point where he couldn't think straight and failed to remember just why he'd been afraid of this. Desperate want overwhelmed him as one hand trailed down Skulduggery's body whilst the other kept an unyielding grip on his shirt.

Skulduggery felt the hand wandering down his torso and towards his pants. Firmly, he pulled it back, earning a whine of disappointment from Erskine to which he responded by breaking off the kiss.

"We all have limits," he murmured. "If you forget yours, then you'll hurt yourself. I don't want that, okay? Don't try anything like that yet."

Erskine's eyes were completely glazed over with lust, but he nodded in understanding and his hands retreated. Suddenly, he yawned as the sleeping draught kicked back in and tried pulling him back into the depths of sleep.

"Tired?" Skulduggery enquired.

"Hmm," Erskine mumbled, trying to fight the urge to close his eyes. Skulduggery smiled sympathetically and curled up next to him, pulling the bedsheets over them both.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," the famed detective whispered into his lover's ear. Erskine simply murmured in reply just moments before he completely drifted off.

The smile faded from Skulduggery's face within moments. Tenderly, he brushed a hand over the cross that had been savagely carved into his left arm, shivering when Vile snarled in outrage. Erskine was right; he wasn't possessed. Instead he was the demon itself. A demon and a queer. Had he still been living in the 1500s, there would no doubt be people baying for his blood and taking great pleasure in watching him get burned at the stake.

 _Papa would kill me if he found out who I am…_

* * *

 **Just to clarify; the little incident with the letter opener and the stable hand was the only incident that even came close to child abuse for Skulduggery. So, yeah. I'm not that cruel. Instead, his dad was a douchebag who didn't pay enough attention to his son.**


	17. Chapter 16

**In this chapter, we take a break from angst and sadism to observe the idiocy of Skulduggery Pleasant.**

 **To LionsandTrolls: You're forgiven (by me at least). And you _should_ be concerned! _I_ am concerned! Glad you like it, though. Wait, who was I talking to again? There's no one there.**

 **Anyways. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 16 – Limits**

 _A Week Later_

"Is this really a good idea?"

"Of course. It's my idea. Now hit me."

"I don't know…"

"Look, I'm not going to be able to work again if I can't take a hit or deal them out. Now hit me. And no fanny slaps either; give me everything you've got."

Ghastly gave Skulduggery a dubious look. The detective had had his life restored… what..? Three weeks ago? And he was already out to hit someone. Right now, the two Dead Men were in a spare room in Edgely Manor that Valkyrie had repurposed as a training room with a boxing ring and other equipment. Dexter, Erskine and Saracen were watching nervously from where they sat by the walls, and Valkyrie and Clarity were absent; currently playing Hide and Seek with the Pups.

Reluctantly, Ghastly brought his fist crashing into Skulduggery's face. The blow sent him sprawling onto the floor, and when he pulled himself up to his feet, his legs were shaking and there was a dazed look in his eyes.

"That the best you've got?" he scoffed, stumbling over towards Ghastly. Sweat was already beading on his forehead, and his agonisingly thin body shook; whether from exhaustion or shock was yet to be known. "Come on, Ghastly. Don't be soft!"

Lunging forward, Skulduggery swung a wild punch towards Ghastly's head, but it was off by a mile and the momentum left him flailing until he tripped over his own feet and fell flat on his face, only to scramble back up.

"Skulduggery, I think you should stop," Ghastly said, eyeing the detective warily.

"No!" Skulduggery protested, almost yelling before he regained his composure. "No, I… I'm fine. Now, come on. Hit me again."

"No."

"Don't be such a sod! I can handle this!

"No, you can't. You're not ready for this."

"I'll be _fine_."

"You don't know that. If you're not careful, you could hurt yourself."

"I've been through worse than a pulled muscle, Ghastly."

"Whilst you were healthy and able to hold in a bloody meal for more than fifteen minutes."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

Ghastly rolled his eyes in exasperation. "What does it take for this simple fact to get through your insufferably thick skull? You're not ready to start training again!"

"And I won't be ready unless I-. Hey, what!"

Before he'd managed to finish what he was about to say, Dexter had tackled him to the ground and pinned him there in a grip of iron. Instinctively, he tried to escape, utilising a technique that he'd carried out time and time again, but all he could do was kick his legs about and growl in frustration when his attempts proved ineffective. However, he kept trying, regardless of the light-headedness that was creeping in.

After ten minutes of the same futile attempt, Dexter finally let him go and allowed him to stand back up. What actually happened was a story in itself. Instead of gracefully rising to his feet, Skulduggery's legs buckled beneath him, refusing to hold his weight; about as useful as prosthetics made of jelly.

"I told you so," Ghastly muttered, standing idly by with his arms folded in disapproval.

"It's nothing," was the muttered retort. "I'm perfectly fine."

"Sure you are," Dexter scoffed as he observed his handiwork.

Skulduggery glared at him then tried getting to his feet again, but it was clear he'd never accomplish that simple task without help. His legs trembled violently, he was sweating and his eyes were somewhat glazed over from exhaustion.

Erskine had seen enough. Striding over to Skulduggery, he roughly hoisted him up by the shoulder; ignoring all protests and excuses; and marched him out of the room. The man was stubborn, the man was reckless, the man was hard-headed, but this was stupid. Skulduggery was being a complete and utter idiot.

He dragged the moron into the kitchen and forced him to sit in a chair whilst he searched the freezer for some ice. A nasty bruise was already beginning to blossom on Skulduggery's face.

"You're an idiot," Erskine said, walking over and placing an ice pack over Skulduggery's eye. "You know that, right?"

"I don't want to be useless."

"That's a load of bullshit. You're not useless, but you will be if you make your condition worse. Hold that there; it'll bring the swelling down."

Skulduggery didn't dare protest, and did as he was told. The ice made his face go numb and it felt uncomfortable, but it eased the throbbing pain a great deal.

"Remember what I said about not pushing your limits?" Erskine continued, sitting on a chair in front of Skulduggery, who nodded. "I still mean it. You'll hurt yourself if you push too hard."

"I'm getting tired of this, Erskine," Skulduggery sighed. "It's nice to have an excuse to be lazy for once after so many years, but there's only so many times one can watch the same movie until it gets annoying."

"Do something else then. Reorganise the DVD cabinet, go on the internet and watch kitten videos, go for a walk, go up and down the stairs a few times, do some birdwatching. The possibilities are endless."

"Take you out on a date, perhaps?" Skulduggery suggested, a mischievous smirk twitching on his lips. The blush that flooded Erskine's face was all he needed for a response.

"I-it's something," Erskine squeaked. He literally squeaked, too, and Skulduggery couldn't help but laugh at how adorable he was.

"So I'm guessing you have no objection then," he chuckled, reaching forward and holding Erskine's hand in his own. "Because I know just where to take you."

"Don't spoil it for me, then. Look, I'm doing a quick supply run with Saracen and Dexter. Try not to do anything stupid whilst I'm gone."

"Erskine, you're my love interest, not my mother."

"Oi!"

"Okay, okay, I'll take your advice. But… watching kitten videos? What on Earth would possess anyone to do that?"

"Clarity and their friends have some interesting pastimes."

"Of course they do."

* * *

 **A.N. - Erskine has clearly not met the typical mortal population. Those kitten videos are like digital life for some.**

* * *

"So how's it going with you and Skulduggery?"

Erskine looked up from the shelf he was currently searching for spaghetti. "Huh?"

Saracen rolled his eyes. "You can't fool me, Ravel," he claimed. "I know things, remember?"

"Could you rewind that whole conversation? I have no idea what you're going on about."

Exasperated, Saracen shook his head. "I asked how your relationship with Skulduggery has been going."

Erskine was silent for a moment as he pretended to look overly absorbed in a jar of Bolognese. "How long have you known about it?" he asked quietly, thankful that Saracen had chosen to bring this up in a somewhat private setting.

"I've known from the start that _something_ was going on."

"Well, um… I'd say things are okay."

"You're a horrible liar when it comes to relationships, you know that? Come on, tell me what's going on between you two."

Erskine felt himself blushing. Crap. "I thought it was only the women who gossiped about relationships," he retorted.

Saracen shrugged. "A guy can be interested in his friends' love lives," he stated.

Sighing, Erskine gave in. It was obvious Saracen wouldn't give up. "It's going well," he said simply. "Now will you please let up?"

"Not until I get all the details. You know I love a good romance story."

Great, now the blush was getting worse. If Dexter showed up, he'd never hear the end of it. "Is this really all that necessary?" he asked, exasperated.

"Yes, it is necessary. Erskine, you're getting back into the dating game again, when just a month ago, you couldn't let people so much as look at you without completely freaking out. Clearly, you're making progress! Now, come on. What don't I know already?"

"We, um… we haven't really done all that much…"

"What's it like to kiss him? I know you've kissed him."

Erskine rolled his eyes as he picked up a packet of spaghetti and put it in the basket that Saracen was carrying. "Why, are you interested?" he asked, a cocky glint in his eyes.

"Pfft! Please, I haven't managed to get a smooch from Valkyrie yet. I have priorities."

"That's… a little worrying."

"That's me, not you. Now, come on, you haven't answered my question."

"Alright, yes! I like kissing him. He makes me feel safe, and he cares a lot about me. Now are you done?"

Saracen's smile went from cheeky to soft and caring in an instant, and he happily wrapped an arm around Erskine's shoulders. "It's good to hear that from you, Erskine," he said. "You really need someone like that in your life at the moment, and although Skulduggery's not my first choice of a partner, I think being with you will benefit him as well. That man needs to let people love him again."


	18. Chapter 17

**I don't like the beginning of this chapter. Ignore it and enjoy the Sexter and Rasent instead.**

* * *

 **Chapter 17 – Fudge, Truth and Nightmares**

It was a little-known fact that Skulduggery had always had a sweet tooth.

Which was why he found himself _really_ envying Erskine at the moment. Why did he get to enjoy sweet treats when Skulduggery didn't? And how come he had the audacity to scarf them down right in front of him?

"Is something wrong?" Erskine asked through a mouthful of fudge.

Skulduggery scowled. "It's not fair," he grumbled. "You get to enjoy fudge and other sweet delights when I'm stuck with that rotten soup, day in, day out."

Frowning, Erskine swallowed what was in his mouth and walked over to sit on the sofa next to Skulduggery. "Is that why you've been giving me odd looks?" he asked. "Over food?"

"Food that I can't taste without getting sick afterwards."

"Are you sure about that?"

Confused, Skulduggery tilted his head. "I'm pretty sure that-. Hmm?"

Erskine had wasted no time in pulling Skulduggery into a kiss, cutting short what would no doubt have turned out to be a ridiculously long monologue. In the past, he would have been reprimanded for such a thing, but this time, there were no qualms against it as the kiss was happily returned. Pleasure danced through Skulduggery's mind, and oh, _god_ did it taste sweet. So much that it left him yearning for more when Erskine pulled away.

"I… w-wow," Skulduggery breathed. "That was…"

"It tastes nice, doesn't it?" Erskine said, smiling.

Nodding, Skulduggery grinned and initiated another kiss, just as sweet as the last one.

A few hours later, Valkyrie, Clarity, the four resident men and Tanith were gathered in the living room, playing Truth or Dare after Tanith had dragged them into it. So far, Dexter had been dared to kiss Skulduggery (earning him a vicious slap from the detective in question, who spent the next few turns glaring at Tanith furiously), Saracen had danced to Gangam Style, Skulduggery had been forced to admit what had happened the first time he'd ever gotten drunk (apparently he'd kissed and proposed to his favourite mare and insisted that Ghastly be the one to marry them) which left everyone howling with laughter, and Clarity had been challenged to stand on one hand for as long as possible. They lasted three minutes and twenty-two point seven eight seconds.

Eventually, it was Erskine's turn.

"Okay, then, Erskine," Tanith began, a scheming glint in her eyes. He was in trouble, he could feel it. "Truth or dare?"

"Truth," Erskine said quickly, desperate not to get into trouble.

"What's with the turtlenecks? Seriously, you never stop wearing them."

The colour completely fled from Erskine's face. Oh, no.

"I… I, um…" he mumbled, nervously pulling at the sleeves of his turtleneck. The girls didn't know about what had happened to him, and now didn't seem to be a great time to bring it up. "Well, I… I get cold easily, and…"

"Would you look at the time?!" Saracen exclaimed suddenly, standing up a little too quickly than necessary. "I don't know about you, but I'm going to turn in. Husky is likely going to wake me up at six again."

"I-I'm going up as well," Erskine stuttered quickly, leaving the room before anyone could protest. "Goodnight."

Tanith glared daggers at him until he left, and when she finally averted her eyes, she noticed that Clarity was giving them and Valkyrie an odd look. "What?"

"That was a bad move," Clarity said quietly, getting up and leaving as well. Dexter followed suit mere moments afterwards. Skulduggery was the only one left with the women.

"What was that about?" Valkyrie demanded.

"Maybe you should have asked that instead of the stupid turtleneck question," Skulduggery replied bitterly. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to bed as well."

Tanith and Valkyrie were lost in stunned silence until he left, then Tanith broke it.

"Is _everyone_ going insane?!"

* * *

 _Saracen had never told anyone, but since Darquesse, he'd been plagued by nightmares, much like how he was now. It was always the same one; he was being crushed by rock and rubble; covered in blood, unable to move or breathe and surrounded by hissing, snarling shadows that whispered in his ears. Reality was fading, a high, frantic noise echoed in his ears, and he only realised it was the sound of his own screams when a hand burst through the debris and hauled him out. Clinging on for dear life, he only let go when he saw light._

"Saracen," Dexter pressed, shaking his friend's shoulders worriedly. Saracen had completely frozen up, and it was impossible to tell if he was awake or still trapped in whatever nightmare he'd been enduring. "Come on, wake up, Sar."

Saracen continued to whine in distress, shaking his head, but eventually his eyes focused on Dexter.

"Dexter?" he breathed. "What are you..?"

"You were yelling in your sleep," Dexter explained. "When I came in, you were more or less being strangled by the sheets."

"Oh. Sorry I woke you."

"You didn't. I was getting a drink when I heard you."

"Okay."

"You want to talk about it?" Dexter asked, shifting about to sit cross-legged on the bed next to Saracen.

"Y-yes. Please."

"Go ahead."

Saracen took a deep breath. "You know how I got crushed by a wall when fighting Darquesse? I… I keep having nightmares about it."

"Dexter frowned, his brow creasing in concern. "This… this has been happening since..?"

A nod. "Yes. I… I spent six months stuck in that moment. I couldn't move, breathe, and… I just felt so _cold_. I was terrified.

He started shaking, and Dexter quickly wrapped an arm around his shoulders to try and calm him down. "You never told us."

"I didn't want to become a burden."

"That's bullshit," Dexter snorted. "You'd never be a burden to me."

"You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Then could you, um… stay with me? Just for tonight. I'd rather not have any more nightmares."

"Sure."

Smiling, Dexter lay down next to Saracen. The two men lay apart; not touching, but close enough to know that the other was there. It was what they'd done during the war; them and the other Dead Men.

Dexter was asleep within moments, but Saracen was not so quick to return to the land of dreams.

At some point in the night, he felt Dexter roll over and wrap his arms around him in a warm embrace. Saracen smiled. He wouldn't be having any more nightmares tonight.

* * *

Saracen and Dexter weren't the only ones sleeping together to ward off nightmares. Erskine was woken up by someone entering his room. Looking up blearily, he saw the soft glint of violet eyes by the door. His first thought was that Clarity wanted to talk to him, but then he remembered that Clarity's eyes glowed, and these ones didn't.

"Skulduggery? You okay?"

The detective was silent as he walked over and crawled beneath the covers next to Erskine. Concerned, Erskine allowed Skulduggery to embrace him tightly. He didn't expect him to suddenly start crying into his chest.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

The detective continued to sob hysterically, and Erskine caught muffled Irish, of which he understood 'failed' and 'couldn't save them'.

"My fault, my fault," he wailed. "Couldn't stop… I was too weak… It's my fault!"

As Skulduggery continued to sob, Erskine was repeatedly stroking his hair and rubbing his back gently in an attempt to soothe him. He knew what was going on.

"It wasn't your fault," he whispered, hugging Skulduggery tightly. "You were wronged, tricked and used by a monster. It was _his fault_ you lost them, not yours."

"Arrachtaigh a dhéanamh arrachtaigh," Skulduggery whimpered. "It's an endless cycle. He made a monster out of me. It's my fault."

By this point, he seemed inconsolable, but Erskine wasn't giving up. He'd hurt his friends too much to let them hurt themselves. Forcefully, he pushed Skulduggery away from him and looked him in the eye sternly.

"You are _not_ a monster," he said firmly. "I don't know how you got that into your head, but it's utter crap. Four hundred years, and I've never met a more selfless, noble man in my life. True, you've got your faults, but you've made up for it more than enough times. There's no one else I would trust more with my life."

Skulduggery didn't say anything. Tears still streamed from his eyes, but he'd stopped weeping, which was something.

Wordlessly, he pulled Erskine into his chest, his breathing shaky and fingers entwining with Erskine's hair. He was kissing the top of his head repeatedly as he mumbled incoherently. After ten minutes of this monotonous sequence, he eventually quieted, leaving Erskine concerned and confused, but he was too tired to dwell on it. The sleeping draught was kicking back in, and it was calling him back into the depths of sleep.

"We can't change the past," he murmured drowsily. "And we can't let it hurt us now, either. Please. Don't let it hurt… don't let…"

He didn't manage to finish his sentence before he was asleep. He had his arms around Skulduggery, and as the blond held him close, he gently rested his head in the crook of his neck.

"If only you knew," Skulduggery whispered mournfully. "My past is always threatening to invade my future. Always threatening to hurt everyone. To hurt you."

It was true. In the back of his mind, he could feel Vile repeatedly prodding at the bars of his cage, looking for a way out. The Necromancer's perverted fantasies invaded Skulduggery's thought every now and then, but he managed to beat them back.

 _'I'll kill whoever hurts him,'_ Vile snarled. _'Including you.'_


	19. Chapter 18

**Eh. Dumb filler chapter today that I randomly dumped here just to get it out of the way. The next one is better.**

* * *

 **Chapter 18 – Disagreement**

"No."

"You have to."

"I'm not letting you do this to me."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because I don't trust you."

"Skulduggery, I am cutting your hair whether you like it or not!" Clarity spat, stalking towards Skulduggery with a pair of scissors in hand. The detective was in the corner of the kitchen, defiance blazing in his eyes as he expertly evaded the cryptid's grasp.

"You're going to make me look like an idiot," Skulduggery said.

"I am _not_!"

The two continued to bicker like children until Saracen stepped in, taking the scissors from Clarity's hands and putting them down on the table.

"Clarity, sweetheart, I think you should leave men's fashion to the men," he advised. "Now, shoo. Go gossip with Valkyrie and Tanith on the phone."

Clarity glowered in Skulduggery's direction before relenting and leaving. _Let the men fight it out,_ they thought.

Now Skulduggery, Saracen, Dexter and Erskine were the only ones in the kitchen.

"Don't think I'm trusting you lot to fix my look," the detective objected. "If I do that, then I'm liable to wind up with something ridiculous."

"Oh, come on, Skull," Dexter said, exasperated. "It'll just be a trim so that you don't look like a hippie when you go back to work."

Skulduggery frowned. All jokes aside, Dexter was right. His hair was getting quite long, resulting in it becoming a nuisance; constantly falling over his face and obscuring his vision. Heck, it was long enough to tie back into a ponytail.

"Just a trim," he growled. "Otherwise I will kill you in your sleep."

"Empty threats, Pleasant," Dexter dismissed. "Empty threats."

Rolling his eyes, Skulduggery begrudgingly sat in one of the kitchen chairs and waited for one of the men to proceed to butcher his hair. He fought the urge to flinch when someone picked up a small portion of it and started snipping away at the ends.

"Time to get the hair gel!" Saracen announced suddenly, turning to leave.

"Don't you dare," Skulduggery snarled, twitching his head in the other mage's direction. If looks could kill, then Saracen would be dead on the ground right now.

"Mind facing forward again?" Erskine asked quietly from behind him, surprising the detective.

"You can cut hair?" Skulduggery queried.

"I trim my own hair. You didn't know?"

"Actually, I didn't. I thought you had your own personal barber."

The exasperated sigh he got in response made him smirk. "I had an apprenticeship with my uncle before the war. He owned that barber shop in Dublin, remember?"

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Never mind. Shut up and let me do my job."

They dropped into silence for a while, whilst Dexter and Saracen chatted in the corner. Aside from the hushed sound of their voices and the quick, efficient sound of scissors sheering through hair, the kitchen was silent.

"Done," Erskine announced, putting down the scissors and brushing away the pieces of hair that had accumulated on Skulduggery's shoulders. "Not bad, if I do say so myself."

"Is there a mirror anywhere?" Skulduggery asked as he stood up and straightened out his hair.

"Downstairs bathroom," Dexter said, pointing out of the kitchen. "Careful not to crack it."

Scowling at Dexter, Skulduggery headed towards the bathroom to look at himself in the mirror. He was impressed. It was still somewhat long towards the back, but the front gradually got shorter and framed his face and jaw nicely, giving him a refined yet somewhat rugged appearance. It was somewhat reminiscent of how he'd looked before he'd died. Although during the war, he'd often looked half wild after several months living in ditches whilst tailing Mevolent's forces.

"Did I do alright?" Erskine ventured as Skulduggery walked out.

"Wonderfully," Skulduggery said, placing a gentle kiss on Erskine's forehead. "I should have asked you to do my hair earlier."

* * *

 **This was going to happen sooner or later. After all, Skulduggery's hair grows like any other person's.**


	20. Chapter 19

**Told you this chapter would be better. And I reckon it's clear that I don't like China. Also, don't hate me for putting an OC into the position of Elder. She is actually quite important to the story, and after conferring with LionsandTrolls (the only one who's actually reviewing by the way. Thank you so much for that!), I reckon she's alright.**

 **To LionsandTrolls:** **Pfft! Erskine's a goat XD Don't let him or Skulduggery hear that. And you already think he'd in creeper territory? Wait until Chapter 21, you'll be horrified! _I'm_ horrified at what I've done! **

* * *

**Chapter 19 – Stubbornness and Broken Walls**

China, Ghastly and Mesmer all stared at the man wearily. Of course he had come back to demand he be allowed to go back to work; he was Skulduggery Stubborn-Ass Pleasant; the thick-headed detective who didn't know when to quit.

"Give me a desk job if you so wish," Skulduggery pressed. "Just so long as I can do _something_ , I'm happy."

Ghastly rolled his eyes, Loom's shoulders slumped and China was inconspicuously gripping the arm of her throne in an attempt to hold her temper in check.

"We shall request preparation of an office for you," China said through gritted teeth. "Work starts on Monday."

Immediately, Skulduggery's face lit up, followed by a smug air of triumph. "It is much appreciated, Grand Mage," he said.

"Good. Now get out, let Synecdoche finish her assessment of your condition and go home. Don't come back until Monday."

"Very well. In that case, I bid you adieu."

With a highly uncalled for flourish of his hat, Skulduggery tuned to leave. Strutting towards the door, he unexpectedly walked into the doorframe, hitting his nose painfully. Amused by the blunder, Ghastly laughed at him shamelessly, and even China allowed a small chuckle at the detective's misfortune. Lounging back in her throne, Mesmer Loom watched with a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

"Grand Mage, may I recommend that you teach your doors to remain in one place when one intends to walk through them," Skulduggery grumbled, rubbing his nose and shooting a glare in Elder Loom's direction. Ghastly was howling with laughter, and Skulduggery treated him to an indignant scowl; exiting and grumbling about Elders and their lousy sense of humour.

When Ghastly managed to calm down, he was red in the face from laughing so hard. "Well done, Mesmer," he chortled, "I think we all needed that."

Mesmer smiled exultantly. 'It was rather fun,' she signed, glad that her fellow Elder had taken the time to learn sign language so as to ease the stress of her constantly communicating telepathically.

Mesmer Loom was a powerful Sensitive, which she owed to her many years of travelling and refining her craft; learning the multiple talents found within her branch of magic. During the war, she'd aided the Sanctuary in recovering various agents and locating possible threats; going so far as to try influencing Mevolent's mind. Sadly, her endeavours had resulted in the removal of her vocal cords along with one or two toes; courtesy of Doctor Nye. She'd gained a few pounds since the war had ended, but that was understandable since she'd previously looked half-starved until a Buddhist monk had helped amend that. Her long, cherry blonde hair was currently braided with several ornamental beads, light gold eye shadow complimented pale green eyes, and somehow she managed to pull off wearing the Elder robes with little difficulty.

"As amusing as it is, I'm afraid we have other matters to attend to," China cut in. "Tipstaff, would you kindly fetch Erskine Ravel for us?" The distaste in her voice when she said the name was more than evident. In fact, it dripped with venom. "I presume he is in the medical ward. Am I correct, Elder Loom?"

Mesmer briefly nodded in confirmation; a little annoyed at China's blunt formality.

"As you wish, Grand Mage Sorrows," Tipstaff said; sounding like a spiffing toff as usual. As he left, Mesmer; ever the prankster trying to make everyone laugh; mentally prompted him to swing his hips like a sassy catwalk model. This earned her some barely contained laughter from Ghastly and a disapproving glance from China. Mesmer liked Ghastly; they'd courted briefly in their youth, but eventually decided that they didn't click that way. Now, he was more like a brother to her.

As she waited for Tipstaff to return with Ravel, she allowed herself to think about the Man with the Golden Eyes. Last time Mesmer had seen him had been about a month after he'd been allocated to that nasty-looking gaol. He'd been a little worse for wear, what with his broken jaw, bruised and recently dislocated (but soon fixed) shoulder, but a look in his mind showed that the walls around his mind had been no less unpassable as they'd been before then, if only a little scratched and looking as if some parts had recently been rebuilt. She hadn't been getting a look into his mind any time soon at that point.

But recently, the fleeting glimpses of his mind's defences hadn't seemed quite so unyielding any more, and it worried her somewhat. In fact, they'd seemed almost non-existent, but she wouldn't be able to confirm that until she got a proper look.

Twisting around in her throne, she tried to dismiss the horrible feeling of cold dread that she felt in her gut. Mesmer might not have been all too great at seeing the future, but she could still get slight premonitions, and she really hoped that this wasn't one of them.

* * *

 _Erskine had given up trying to halt his trembling fit long before it had even started; as was the case with most things in his life nowadays. He'd given up trying to fight off the abuse; given up on defying the horrifying truths that the warden and gaol inmates had hammered into his traumatised, broken mind; given up on the revolution and dreams he'd once held in such high regard._

 _China Sorrows gazed upon this pathetic little shell of a human being with unmasked disgust._ This _was the man who'd lead a revolution against the dominance of mortals?_ This _was supposed to be one of Ireland's esteemed heroes who'd survived the tyrannical grasp of Mevolent? This had to be some sort of joke. Erskine Ravel; as much as she hated to admit; was not a quivering little weakling who couldn't even_ look _at anyone without shattering into a screaming mess that begged over and over again for mercy he didn't deserve._

 _"_ _So you understand the consequences of what will happen should you go against your word?" she questioned again, her tone apathetic but threatening and promising a lot of pain if she was defied._

 _"_ _Y-y-y-yes," Erskine whimpered, refusing to let his one intact eye meet with China's icy blue ones. He was utterly terrified, traumatising images flooding his mind and making him shake even more to the point that the table was rattling._

 _Rolling her eyes, China stood up, relishing in the way Ravel shrank even further. Wordlessly, she exited the interrogation room, and met Clarity in the hallway._

 _"_ _He's yours," she said, and the Cryptid's gaze hardened slightly. "Do as you see fit with him, just don't let him near anyone who may have been involved in his little uprising. I think it would benefit us all if that little spark of rebellion did not get a chance to flare up again."_

 _"_ _If it'll keep him safe, then so be it," Clarity said bluntly. "Thank you; I appreciate that you've let me do this."_

 _China said nothing. She was already walking away, hardly caring about the fate of the traitor anymore. He was no longer her problem._

 _Scowling after the Grand Mage, Clarity waited for her to disappear round the corridor before entering the room to find Erskine sat, still shaking at the table, staring at his hands with wide, terrified eyes._

 _"_ _Erskine?" they ventured, cautiously approaching him but halting when he snapped his head up to look at them. They knew how trauma could easily lead to violent, fearful outbursts through even the slightest of actions. "You ready to go?"_

 _Whimpering softly, Erskine responded with a shaky, unsure nod, and Clarity carefully walked over and helped him to his feet. He gripped their arm with a terror-fuelled grip of iron, but thankfully, it wasn't the most painful thing they'd experienced. Having their leg broken as a result of getting caught in a steel-jawed bear trap probably took that spot._

 _"_ _I'll get you some crutches as soon as possible," Clarity said, looking at Erskine's leg, which was encased in a thick white cast. "That way you can move about more freely whilst your leg's still in that cast."_

 _"_ _O-o-okay," Erskine whispered, his voice barely audible. "C-Clarity?"_

 _"_ _Yes? What is it?" Clarity asked._

 _"_ _I-I… I wanna go home. I-I don't like it here. I'm… I'm scared."_

 _Tears pricked at Clarity's eyes, and it took a lot of willpower not to let them flow freely down their face. They'd never expected Erskine, of all people, to beg them to go home the way a terror-stricken child would. Just what else had those bastards possibly done to him?_

 _"_ _Okay," they said, carefully guiding Erskine out of the room and one step closer to something he could call freedom. "We'll go home now."_

* * *

These days, Erskine didn't laugh very often, but the sight of Tipstaff walking in with his hips swaying like a teenage diva from a hilariously melodramatic chick flick had him doubling over with hysterics. It was so surprising that Synecdoche actually thought he was having some sort of seizure, which might as well have been the case. Even Clarity looked a little concerned.

"T-Tipstaff," Erskine managed to utter between gleeful howls. "Do you… do you know what you're doing? Jesus Christ, I never realised you were so sassy!"

The Administrator just scowled at him irately, clearly not finding his predicament in the least bit funny. "The Council of Elders request your presence," he said briskly, turning to make a brief exit. His hips were still carrying out that ridiculous oscillating motion.

Erskine's laughter quickly died down once he processed just what Tipstaff had said. The Elders. Mesmer, China and Ghastly. They wanted to see him.

Glancing towards Clarity for reassurance, he reluctantly followed the Administrator towards the throne room. Anxiety rose in his throat as his guts tied themselves in knots. Last time he'd seen China, he'd almost had a fit.

When Erskine entered the throne room, Mesmer was surprised by what she saw. Fear simmered behind his eyes, and he appeared to have shrunk. Not literally, of course. His presence just didn't seem to fill the room like it used to.

Looking into his mind, she expected the same towering walls to block her entry as the ones she'd always been met with in the past. Much to her dismay, all that remained was a ruin; barely standing any more. If she'd had a mind to, she could easily pass through and look through whatever she chose, and even wreak havoc in there if she so wished.

"Erskine Ravel," China greeted, her voice dangerously level. Not a good sign.

"Grand Mage Sorrows," Erskine murmured. "Um… To what do I owe the pleasure? I didn't expect you to request my presence."

Mesmer frowned. She could see the rising wave of terror slowly approaching the shattered remains of Erskine's walls.

"I thought it would be prudent to receive an update on you, what with you having spent seven months in Miss Veil's custody."

 _Wouldn't Clarity be a more reliable source?_ Mesmer 'heard' Erskine think. _No, you have other motivations._

"I see," was all he said.

"So I trust you've been behaving accordingly," China continued.

"Yes."

The walls were shaking. Pieces were crumbling away.

"There have been no… little sparks of rebellion recently?"

Large chunks were breaking off now; Erskine's raging turmoil of emotions was threatening to burst forward.

"N-no!" he protested. "No, I… I've not tried anything. Y-you have to believe me."

Narrowing her eyes, China continued asking questions, her gaze unwavering and voice sharp and blunt. As the tension grew, Mesmer could see Erskine's defences breaking down faster and faster, and it was showing, too. He was shaking violently, blinking to hold back tears, and most of what he said was lost in a torrent of fearful stuttering.

Eventually, Mesmer had had enough.

 _"_ _Thank you, Erskine,"_ she said telepathically, broadcasting the message all throughout the room so that Ghastly and China heard it too. _"You're dismissed."_

A frantic nod was the only reply before Erskine more or less ran out of the throne room. Nightmare images flashed in his mind, forcing tears from the corners of his eyes and before he realised where he was going, he found himself in one of the men's bathrooms, shaking and breathing heavily. He was struggling to breathe and his vision was blurring.

After several minutes of desperately trying to hold back tears and repeatedly splashing his face with water from the tap in an attempt to calm himself, he finally left and headed back to the infirmary. Hopefully no one would notice that he'd come very close to having another panic attack.

* * *

"Are you alright, Erskine?"

Erskine looked up from where he was staring out of the Bentley window to meet eyes with Skulduggery. A month, and the man was already driving again. Hopefully he wouldn't wind up crashing. Now he and Erskine were both driving back to the manor ahead of Clarity, Saracen, Dexter and the Pups, who were still with Doctor Synecdoche, receiving a check-up.

"I'm okay," Erskine murmured quietly, failing to convince the detective.

Frowning, Skulduggery gently held Erskine's hand in his, but to his surprise, the man flinched away. Confused, he remained silent for the remainder of the journey until they pulled up in front of Edgely Manor.

"Erskine, you do know that-."

"I'm fine!" Erskine snapped. "Just stop pestering me!"

Stunned by the sudden outburst, Skulduggery was at a loss for words as Erskine got out of the car and stormed into the manor, having picked up the spare keys from the Bentley. After a few moments, Skulduggery followed him.

Erskine was just walking up the stairs rather noisily when Skulduggery entered the manor, and moments later, a door could be heard slamming shut.

 _'_ _Idiot,'_ Vile muttered.

 _'_ _I didn't do anything!'_ Skulduggery retorted.

Still, he couldn't help but feel a little at fault. _Something_ must have happened for Erskine to be so snappy at him. He'd been distant since he'd returned from his meeting with the Elders, looking like he'd been crying.

In an effort to try and make amends, Skulduggery walked upstairs and headed for Erskine's room. Much to his dismay, he could hear weeping from the other side of the door.

"Erskine," he called, hastily pushing the door open to see Erskine curled up in the corner of the room, bawling his eyes out. Gasping sobs wracked his chest violently to the point where he seemed to be having trouble breathing, tears were already soaking the fabric of his turtleneck and the violent tremors of his body were all too evident. "Erskine, what's wrong? What happened?"

"I'm really sorry!" Erskine wailed. "I-I didn't… I didn't…"

"Hey, it's alright," Skulduggery soothed, tentatively walking up to Erskine and sitting down next to him. Immediately, the smaller mage desperately hid his face in his chest, and for once, Skulduggery didn't mind getting his suit wet. "You didn't do anything wrong. Couples get into spats all the time. Do you want to tell me what's gotten you so upset?"

It took a few minutes, but Erskine finally managed to tell him.

"I-I… China, she… I don't know what happened," he choked. "I just got so scared."

 _Bloody bitch,_ Skulduggery seethed furiously. _I might have known she'd have something to do with this._

"It's okay, Ersie," he consoled, hoping that the little pet name he'd recently come up with for Erskine would help to dulcify him. "Don't worry, I'm not upset with you, sweetheart."

Tentatively, Skulduggery pulled Erskine into a warm, comforting embrace, repeatedly kissing his forehead and gently entwining his fingers in his hair, carefully teasing out the knots. Erskine kept sniffling weakly, desperately clinging to Skulduggery for reassurance. His pitiful state tore at Skulduggery's chest painfully.

Eventually, Erskine's fearful sobbing came to a close, and he gradually quieted down.

"Feeling better?" Skulduggery asked, placing another kiss on his forehead. Erskine looked up at him silently, and the sheer terror in the smaller man's eyes made him want to cry. It was like looking into the eyes of a child. "Ersie…"

"I'm scared," Erskine whispered.

Sighing, Skulduggery gave Erskine a gentle squeeze and allowed him lay his head on his lap in silence. Silence descended over them, and Skulduggery took the time to ponder how China had managed to belittle him into such a state. Clearly, the Grand Mage had used some sort of enchantment on him, much like how she could leave people smitten with her.

 _'_ _Bitch,'_ Vile growled. Skulduggery wholeheartedly agreed.

* * *

The others got back about half an hour later, accompanied by Ghastly and Tanith.

"Hey, Skull!" Valkyrie yelled up the stairs, causing Erskine to flinch at how loud she was. "Where are you?!"

"I'm in Erskine's room," was the response.

"What the heck are you doing in there?" Valkyrie demanded, walking in to find Erskine curled up in Skulduggery's arms, looking up at her with wide, fearful eyes. "The fuck..?"

Immediately, Erskine was whimpering and desperately trying to hide his face in Skulduggery's chest.

"What the hell is wrong with him?" Valkyrie queried loudly.

"Hey, what's taking so long?" Ghastly asked, also entering the room. Upon seeing Erskine and his terror-stricken state, his expression turned grave. "Another attack? I thought Clarity told me they were becoming less frequent."

"China had some sort of effect on him," Skulduggery said bitterly.

"Can't say he doesn't deserve it," Valkyrie muttered, earning a hard look from Skulduggery.

"Valkyrie," Ghastly said, his expression cold. "I think we need to talk. You and Tanith need to know what's going on."

* * *

 **Before I go, I just want to say that I'd love it if you told me what you think of Mesmer. Please?**


	21. Chapter 20

**I'm sorry about the lateness of this update guys. I've had work experience for the past week, and I've had to cycle there and back home, which has left me pretty worn out. And I have more next week, so updates will probably continue to be a little slow. Sorry.**

 **On an unrelated note, would you guys like me to start writing a collection of Skulduggery Pleasant one-shots? You know, AUs, stuff set after this fic and little bits and pieces that wouldn't fit into this. I've got a few ideas already, so I'll probably start posting stuff after my work experience is done.**

 ** _To Eislicht:_ I'm really glad that you are liking this story, and everything else it has to offer. Sorry about ruining China's image, but I was left with a bitter taste in my mouth after it was revealed that it was her fault Skulduggery's wife and child were dead.**

 **And don't worry about your English; yours is actually pretty decent. Trust me, I've seen actual English speakers who have done a lot worse XD**

 _ **To** **LionsandTrolls:**_ **Here's your update! And I'm glad you think of that about Mesmer. Don't die on me!**

 **This chapter is a little 'eh'. Next one will be better. Well, better written at least.**

* * *

 **Chapter 20 – Horrors Revealed**

Valkyrie and Tanith were sat at the kitchen table opposite Ghastly, and the former had the feeling that the Elder was about to launch into a long lecture.

"Clarity never told you why they took custody over Erskine, did they?" Ghastly asked simply.

Both women shook their heads.

Sighing, Ghastly held out a file, indicating that he wanted them to look at it. "This is why" he said. "In all honesty, I'm quite disgusted that this went on right in front of me for so long."

Confused, Valkyrie opened the folder, only for her and Tanith to recoil in horror at the images they saw. Moments later, Valkyrie could be heard throwing up in the downstairs bathroom.

Tanith just stared, stunned beyond measure. "This actually happened to him?" she asked disbelievingly. Ghastly nodded. "That's… that's just…"

"Disgusting," Valkyrie groaned as she walked back in "Not even Erskine deserves that."

"And the worse thing is that Clarity was the only one who realised what was going on," Ghastly lamented.

"It explains why he's acting the way he is now," Tanith mused. "And the turtlenecks."

"So can I trust you to be nicer to him?" Ghastly asked. "He's paid the price for his misdeeds, I think it's time you started forgiving him. The rest of us have."

"Yes. You can trust us."

* * *

Skulduggery had dozed off at some point whilst Ghastly told the girls what had happened. He still had his arms wrapped around Erskine, whose head was rested in the detective's lap, however he was unable to succumb to sleep as easily as his lover had.

Suddenly, the door was pushed open, and he immediately shrank back in terror when he saw Valkyrie stood in the doorway.

"Hey," the girl in black said quietly. "Um… we're getting takeaway for dinner, so… do you have any suggestions?"

Erskine was silent for a moment as he pondered his options. "Pizza?" he ventured cautiously.

"Anything in particular?"

"I… no, not really."

"Fair enough. But hey, if you change your mind, just let me know. I'll probably make the order in half an hour."

"Okay."

Valkyrie nodded and quietly left the room, allowing Erskine to finally relax. He still got nervous around her, regardless of how friendly she was.

"Typical Valkyrie," Skulduggery said good-humouredly, causing Erskine to look up at him curiously. His expression was very much like Wolf's, albeit possessing a simmering layer of fear beneath it. "Once you give her a reason, she's just too nice. It's a welcome change, though. Now I don't have to worry about her losing her temper with you."

Erskine just murmured wordlessly, pressing his face into Skulduggery's chest; taking comfort in his warmth and the soft sweetness of the fabric of his suit.

"Hey," Skulduggery said, gently raising Erskine's head so that they were locking eyes. "What do I have to do to cheer you up, hmm?"

Nervously, Erskine averted his eyes and leaned forward, lips parted. Skulduggery got the message and brought him into a long, sweet kiss. Calming bliss seeped into their bodies, and Skulduggery relished the softness of Erskine's lips against his own.

"Better?" Skulduggery asked when he broke off, brushing away a stray lock of hair that had gotten into his eyes. Erskine nodded. "Good!" he chirped, tightening his embrace around Erskine and nuzzling his face fondly. A soft chuckle escaped Erskine, and he pulled away to try and escape the shower of affection, but Skulduggery persisted, pulling him closer and managing to land several kisses on his cheek.

"Hey," Erskine objected, curling up in an attempt to protect his face, but the playful glint in Skulduggery's eyes said all. He wasn't going to give up yet. Leaning down, he kissed and nudged the back of the man's neck. The contact tickled and drew a soft laugh from Erskine. "Quit it!"

"Why?" Skulduggery asked, an impish grin adorning his face. "I thought you liked it when I got frisky."

Erskine murmured something in protest, pressing against the detective whilst evading Skulduggery's advances. His endeavours were in vain, however, as more kisses smattered his face and neck; the skin of which had been exposed after the collar of his turtleneck had been pushed down.

"Stop," Erskine said. "That's enough!"

The fear in his voice registered in Skulduggery's mind, and he mercifully relented. Leaning back, he allowed Erskine to calm down before hugging him again.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't think."

"S'okay," Erskine murmured, pressing his face into Skulduggery's shoulder. "Normally, it's not that bad, but I guess…"

"China."

"Mmhmm."

Erskine shivered, and Skulduggery instinctively tightened his grip around him. Tentatively, he nuzzled Erskine's neck again and stroked his hair gently.

"Hey, ladies!" Valkyrie shouted from downstairs, surprising Erskine. "We're going to order pizza, so get your butts down here! I don't want to be outvoted and end up having to force down whatever crap toppings Dexter wants."

Chuckling, Skulduggery nudged Erskine off of his lap and stood up, taking Erskine with him. His boyfriend was a little shaky on his feet, but thankfully he wasn't collapsing, and he didn't look as terrified as before, which was a good sign.

"The rabble downstairs is going to find out about us at some point," Skulduggery stated. "Either we tell them or they figure it out on their own. What do you think we should do? I won't force you into doing it if you don't want to."

The uncertainty in Erskine's eyes was obvious, and he wasn't shy about admitting it. "I don't know. I'm not quite ready to tell everyone just yet, but if they find out anyway, then that's okay."

"I'm alright with that."

"Guys!" Valkyrie called out impatiently. "Are you hungry or not?"

"We ought to go down," Skulduggery said, rubbing his forehead against Erskine's. "I've never had pizza before."

"Well, don't try anchovies, it's not worth it," Erskine joked. "They're salty and taste like dirty socks."

"They what?"

"They're not nice."

"Oh."

Both men quickly made their way downstairs to find Valkyrie and Dexter arguing over what pizza to order in the kitchen. Saracen was watching in amusement from the table with Husky and Dingo sat either side of him, and Clarity was in the corner, listening to music whilst Wolf watched from atop their shoulders.

"Valkyrie, Dexter," Skulduggery interrupted. "It is not just up to you who decides what we get. But know this. I don't want anchovies."

"I'm not going to ask who sent you on the hate parade for anchovies," Saracen said. "I already know."

"And one day, I will find out how that works!" Dexter vowed.

"And until then; pizza," Clarity announced, picking up their phone. "Erskine, what's on the agenda? Because although you cannot cook to save anyone from a fire, you know what everyone likes to eat."

Erskine blanched slightly. "Umm… Okay, well… How about we have…"

* * *

The pizza came pretty quickly, and soon enough, everyone was digging into the delicious Italian food and downing Coke and orange juice. They'd ordered two Meat Feasts, one ham and pineapple, and one chicken and sweetcorn. Of course, Clarity and the Pups eagerly ate large portions of the Meat Feasts, and Skulduggery had a particularly voracious appetite towards it as well. He'd probably regret it later.

"That was actually rather satisfying," Skulduggery proclaimed, lounging back into the couch with a contented smile on his face. His stomach was churning slightly, but other than that, he had genuinely enjoyed the meal. It was a welcome change from soup.

"In that case, then you'd better not be sick later," Valkyrie said as Husky started playing with the laces of her boots.

"I'll be fine."

"You always say that, and lo and behold, you don't turn out to be fine."

"I'm serious this time."

Valkyrie ignored him and rolled her eyes.

"So, what do we do now?" Tanith asked. Right now she was snuggled up next to Ghastly whilst Dingo was drawing next to them.

"Story!" Husky suddenly barked. "Tell a story!"

"Okay, then," Valkyrie consented "How about the time Skulduggery had to wear a dress?"

"No!" Skulduggery protested.

* * *

 **You'll get the next chapter in a few minutes to make up for the lousy chapter.**


	22. Chapter 21

**Okay, I may or may not have gagged once or twice whilst writing this chapter. You'll see why once you read it.**

 **So, a bit of character development for Lord Vile, and LionsandTrolls, you may or may not consider your remark of Vile being in 'creeper territory' an understatement. I got a little uncomfortable writing the part from Vile's perspective, because I don't like sexualising people. Again, you'll see why if you read this.**

 **Oh, and I might be posting the one-shot series sooner than expected. Keep checking my profile if you're interested.**

 **Well, without further ado, enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

 **Chapter 21 – Slipped Up**

Vile had always been there. A persistent, angry voice in the back of Skulduggery's mind that whispered cruel tortures and nightmarish threats in his ear.

The first time he'd ever gotten out; Skulduggery was ten and playing with the cook's dog; a docile old Irish Wolfhound with the calm temperament of a rock. Skulduggery's eyes had suddenly gone manic, and whilst the cook wasn't watching, he swiped a knife from the table and stabbed the dog.

Moments later, Skulduggery; in effect; 'woke up' to find a knife in his hands, blood splattering his front and a dying dog at his feet. His cries of horror had alerted the cook; a healer called Clove Fitzpatrick; who immediately healed the dog and tried to calm a distraught Skulduggery down enough to tell him what happened.

Too traumatised to do much else, Skulduggery had broken down in tears, begging Clove to believe that he didn't know what had happened. He'd just blacked out before coming around to find he'd _stabbed his friend_. Thankfully, the cook had understood that he wasn't truly at fault.

"Don't tell your father," Clove had made him promise.

After that, Skulduggery had started noticing Vile a lot more. Fearing what people would think if he told them, he'd locked the voice away and made sure it would never escape again. Since then, at least one part of him knew what it was like to live in a cage.

But even the most well-made defences can be slipped through…

* * *

It was Vile who looked down at the sleeping form of Erskine this time. Dozing away; peaceful of ever; the gold-eyed mage was the epitome of masculine beauty with a perfect face and absolutely gorgeous body.

 _All mine,_ Vile thought, a possessive glint in his eyes. In a solitary alcove of his mind, he could feel Skulduggery's anxiety rising. What was he worrying about? Vile would _never_ hurt his sweetheart.

 _'_ _Maybe not on purpose,'_ Skulduggery said. _'But you always manage to hurt people, no matter how careful you are.'_

 _'_ _Not him,'_ Vile spat back. _'Not the way you did. You left him.'_

 _'_ _I didn't know, and neither did you, you hypocritical bastard. Now bet back into your time-out corner.'_

 _'_ _No.'_

As Skulduggery continued to yell at him in outrage, Vile returned his attention to Erskine. He was still asleep, but that was understandable.

"My poor baby," Vile whispered, kissing Erskine's forehead softly. "They were really bad to you, weren't they? Don't worry, I'll make them really hurt once I find them. And if she's still around, I'll finish what I started with Darquesse. It would've been fun to watch those Faceless Ones decimate her, wouldn't it?"

 _'_ _You're crazy,'_ Skulduggery muttered. _'Now let me back out. You've had your moment, now go back to hell.'_

His demands went unnoticed, and Vile had to suppress a grin as he traced a finger along Erskine's jaw, marvelling at the touch. He was finally doing this, after so many centuries. And this time, he was no longer a mere bystander who had to make do with second-hand sensations and someone else's emotions. These were _his_ feelings, and _damn_ did he enjoy it.

His hand hovered over Erskine's eyes, and he suddenly wanted nothing more than for those gleaming, metallic orbs to open and lock with his so that he could lose himself in those molten gold depths.

Vile didn't notice the look of fear that flittered across Erskine's face when he started stroking his fingers along his love's side. Skulduggery did.

 _'_ _Vile, that's enough,'_ he growled. _'You're scaring him.'_

 _'_ _He's fine,'_ Vile dismissed.

 _'_ _No, he's not. You're going too far, now let me back out. NOW!'_

There was a moment of darkness and confusion, and when Vile regained his senses, he was greeted by black metal bars and a murky red mist.

Great. He was back in this shithole again.

* * *

As usual, the transition of control between Vile and Skulduggery left the latter momentarily disorientated. When the confusion cleared, he immediately stood up off the bed and tried to shake off the disgusting feeling of dirt that had accumulated on his skin.

 _'_ _You are disgusting,'_ he growled. Vile didn't respond, so clearly, he was sulking. Fair enough; at least he'd shut up. Walking into the bathroom, he turned on the cold tap at the sink and rinsed his face off, ridding himself of the uncomfortable feeling of filth. After doing the same with his arms, he turned the taps off, rested his hands on the rim of the basin and stared at his reflection in the mirror, noting how his condition had visibly improved. His face had filled out, his skin didn't look like paper any more, and there was actual muscle on his arms now.

He didn't notice the heat that had pooled between his legs until it began fading away. Scowling down at himself, he fought the urge to gag. Vile had issues.

Skulduggery waited a short while before exiting the bathroom and crawling beneath the covers with Erskine. The younger mage had started twitching and muttering fretfully in his sleep, but when Skulduggery wrapped an arm around him and gently massaged his shoulders with his free hand, he calmed down.

"Sorry about him," Skulduggery whispered softly. "He won't get out again, I promise."

 _'_ _Selfish skeleton,'_ Vile grumbled. _'I loved him first.'_

 _'_ _Do yourself a favour and shut up,'_ Skulduggery growled back. _'Maybe if you'd taken care not to provoke an attack, then I would've let you stay out a little longer.'_

 _'_ _I wanna hold him!'_ Vile complained. _'He's nice to hug!'_

Skulduggery ignored the whinging Necromancer in his head as the psycho carried on whining like a spoiled child, instead curling himself around Erskine's sleeping form. It vaguely occurred to him that they were in fact spooning, and as he slowly succumbed to the warm haze of sleep, he allowed himself to take comfort in the fact that Erskine was so readily returning his affections.

It felt good to love someone again.

* * *

 _Erskine didn't find it at all strange that he was lying in the warm, protective arms of a werewolf, beneath a tree with a full moon glowing brightly above them. The proud creature had thick, dark blond fur that was slightly mussed up and the most enchanting amethyst coloured eyes that were shaped like almonds._

 _Huffing softly, Skulduggery leaned forward and nuzzled him lovingly. His warm, musky scent overwhelmed Erskine, and he sighed happily. A soft breeze blew in the tranquil air, ruffling Skulduggery's pelt slightly._

 _Suddenly, the lycanthrope started growling threateningly. Following his gaze, Erskine caught sight of a dark, lean shape skulking through the shadows that surrounded them. He managed to discern a long, lupine face, ragged fur and a rabid look in its eyes._

 _"_ _What is that?" Erskine asked, getting only a low growl in response. Fear immediately started brimming, and he backed into Skulduggery's chest for protection. Slowly, the creature stalked towards them, prompting Skulduggery to growl even more fiercely._

 _But as it got closer, Skulduggery seemed to shrink. His growls became weaker, and the look in his eyes became almost plaintive whilst the creature grew bigger and fiercer. By the time it was little more than a few feet away, Erskine's werewolf lover had been reduced to half his size and was barely able to hold his ground against the approaching beast._

 _"_ _What do you want?" Erskine asked quietly, resting a hand on Skulduggery's head protectively._

 _The creature just stared at him silently, violet eyes gleaming with want. Erskine noticed how those eyes appeared to be almond shaped, and its head was shaped a lot like Skulduggery's, with a long, scraggy mane that was only a slightly darker shade of blond than the other wolf's._

 _"_ _You're the beast, aren't you?" Erskine said, recalling what Skulduggery had said about the beast inside him. "The… the one Skulduggery talks about."_

 _A low growl sounded in the creature's chest, and it leaned its head down towards Erskine. Skulduggery had gone quiet save for the occasional weak whine._

 _Carefully, Erskine reached out a hand, surprising both the beast and Skulduggery._

 _"_ _The fact that you have a dark side doesn't matter," he said quietly. "If I didn't love you, I wouldn't be accepting that. And it would be rather hypocritical, too, when you think of what I've done."_

 _Whining in confusion, Skulduggery pressed into Erskine's back anxiously. The beast came closer, eventually lying down beside them both. Skulduggery snarled threateningly, but a small 'hush' from Erskine quieted him. Grinning, Skulduggery's dark side eagerly rested his head on Erskine's lap, growling happily._

 _"_ _I love all of you. Remember that."_


	23. Chapter 22

**Welp! I'm finally out of work experience! Shame, I liked those kids. I'm still a little tired, but thankfully this chapter was written before I started work experience, so it's not dulled down by exhaustion. Enjoy!**

 **Oh, and I think that one-shot series is going to be out soon. In fact, there's two series coming out! One is focused on one particular AU I came up with, and the other is just general one-shots.**

* * *

 **Chapter 22 – You're Not Getting Out!**

"Skulduggery. Hey, Skull. Skulduggery! Wake up, you lazy bag of bones!"

Skulduggery started awake. "Huh, what?!"

Rolling her eyes, Valkyrie got ready to exit the car. "He's just left the building," she said slowly, talking as if he were five. "I'm going to pursue him and catch him. Wait here. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes," Skulduggery muttered, scowling at his partner in annoyance. It was the second full moon since he'd been resurrected, and he was taking cases again, much to his relief. However, tonight wasn't an ideal night. He missed Erskine already, and he'd only been out for a few hours.

"Good. Now wait here, unless you want me to have a new wolf-skin rug, werewolf boy."

Skulduggery refused to answer as Valkyrie exited the car and hid in the shadows, just out of sight of the target; an ugly, unpleasant man with cruel eyes, a bad comb over and a horribly unfashionable jacket. He also needed a shave.

Wait…

Eyes narrowed, Skulduggery observed the man a little more. He looked familiar.

 _'_ _It's him,'_ Vile snarled.

Blazing rage burned through Skulduggery's blood. His eyes glowed with feral rage, and before he realised what he was doing, he darted out of the car and charged towards the gaol warden.

"Skulduggery!" Valkyrie shouted as he ran past. "What the fuck?!"

Hardly bothering to heed Valkyrie's call, Skulduggery cannoned into the man with a roar, bringing him down and gripping him by the front of his shirt.

"Why did you do it?!" he screeched, bringing his fist back and bringing it crashing into his face. He punched him again and again, completely ignoring the bastard's cries for mercy and Valkyrie yelling for him to stop. In the back of his mind, Vile was cheering him on and slowly edging towards the gradually degrading bars of his cage. "What the fuck possessed you to do such a thing?!"

Valkyrie moved forward, grabbing Skulduggery's fist and holding it back. Immediately, the detective whipped round to look at her, and she was shocked by the rabid look in his purple eyes. Shadows were creeping from beneath his suit, and his face was twisted into a deranged look of hatred and anger.

"That's enough!" Valkyrie shouted, scowling back at him and hoping her eyes weren't betraying the fear she felt deep down.

Skulduggery continued to glare at her, his breathing laboured, body shaking with adrenaline and forehead sweating. Gradually, the frenzied look in his eyes faded, replaced with fear and horror. Looking down at the shadows, he leapt up and ran from sight. The man that Valkyrie had been intending to take down and escort to the Sanctuary for questioning got up and fled immediately. Great…

Frowning, Valkyrie turned and followed after Skulduggery, eventually finding him collapsed in an alley, shaking and muttering fearfully.

"You're not getting out," he murmured, shaking his head. "You're not. You… you are not getting out."

Immediately, Valkyrie felt concern replacing the annoyance, and she cautiously knelt down beside him. The shadows continued to flicker across his shivering form, and he was still telling Vile he wasn't getting out.

"Skulduggery," she said, shaking his shoulder. "Come on, we need to go. Vile isn't getting out any time soon."

Eventually, Skulduggery stopped shivering, and pulled himself up onto his feet. He looked ill and fatigued; perhaps a little vulnerable; but at least the shadows were gone.

"Let's go. And you're explaining this to China, by the way."

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?!"

Skulduggery sighed. "I wasn't," he said. "I just… saw him, and… I lost it. It was as if Vile had control."

"Why?!" Valkyrie yelled, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. Then she remembered she was driving and quickly returned her hands to the steering wheel.

"He was the one who started putting Erskine through that abuse. I couldn't just let that slide!"

Valkyrie winced, but held her ground. "You could have put him to justice in a trial!" she countered. "Now he's gotten away, and we're no closer to getting him and the rest of those dealers!"

Sighing, Skulduggery slumped back in his seat. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"You'd better be. Skulduggery, I'm working to get your wages, too, you know."

"I know."

There was a moment of silence. "Shall we get takeaway for dinner?"

"Okay."

"Indian?"

"Sounds good."

* * *

Erskine was found in the living room, drawing in a (reasonably) new sketchbook. Clarity had given it to him after remembering how he used to pass the time during the war by drawing. Until now, he hadn't used it. Beside him, scribbling contently in a big pad of A4 paper, was Wolf. Glancing over, Erskine saw that he was drawing a brown dog. Or maybe it was a wolf. Either way, it was cute.

Suddenly, the front door swung open. "We got dinner!" Valkyrie yelled as she marched in. A second set of footsteps told Erskine that Skulduggery was entering as well.

His assumption was confirmed when a dejected-looking Skulduggery trudged in and sat down next to Erskine, immediately curling up and huddling up to him.

"I messed up," he said quietly.

"What do you mean?" Erskine asked, putting down the sketchbook and pencil in his hands.

"We had a shot at catching that… I can't say it around Wolf, someone would hit me; probably Valkyrie or Clarity, maybe you… the warden of that gaol."

Erskine's blood ran cold, and he had to fight to stop himself from shaking.

"But I just had to lose my temper and try battering him," Skulduggery grumbled, nuzzling the crook of Erskine's neck softly. "Now he's still out there, and we're no closer to putting him behind bars. For what he did, _and_ dealing sorcerers' drugs to mortals."

"You'll get him," Erskine whispered. "I know you will."

"If I don't lose it again. Valkyrie was not impressed."

"I bet she wasn't. What did she get for dinner, by the way?"

"Indian, I think. I wasn't listening."

"You are such a good detective."

"And _you_ are wonderfully sarcastic, my love."

A short laugh escaped Erskine, and he rested his head in Skulduggery's shoulder. "I'm hungry, we should go get some food from the kitchen," he said.

"Agreed. I just hope Valkyrie isn't holding a grudge. Come on."


	24. Chapter 23

**So do you guys still hate me for that last chapter? No? Oh, thank goodness!**

 **This chapter contains a nod to a certain YouTuber (not jacksepticeye) who has taught me a lot of random and somewhat useless stuff. But his video on what do do when you're sick gave me a few ideas for this.**

 **Well, fluff be abound in this chapter! Mainly towards the end. Enjoy!**

* * *

 **Chapter 23 – Illness**

Morning brought with it a thunderstorm. Rain lashed against the windows, stabs of white lightning illuminated the roiling grey sky for a split second before disappearing, followed by rumbling roars of thunder. Some found these great torrents of noise irritating, others (dogs included) were petrified. Skulduggery was fascinated by them. Whenever the opportunity arose, he'd always perch on a windowsill or other available surface to watch Nature's terrifying displays of power with the eagerness of a child. How such anger and ferocity was somehow able to rejuvenate that which it struck was a wonder to him, and one he paid great respect to.

So the moment he'd realised that it was thunder that woke him from his peaceful slumber, he'd clambered out of bed to watch the fearsome scene that raged outside. So absorbed in it was he that he didn't notice Erskine was awake until the sound of someone vomiting interrupted his thoughts.

"Erskine?" Skulduggery ventured, turning towards the bathroom; which was where he'd heard the noise. Leaving his perch, he made his way in. Erskine was kneeling in front of the toilet, having just emptied the contents of his stomach into it.

"I'm okay," Erskine groaned, haphazardly waving an arm in the air before letting it fall. "Just… Probably just something I ate last night."

Frowning, Skulduggery crouched down next to Erskine and peered at his face, noting the flushed cheeks and beads of sweat on his forehead.

"You look feverish," Skulduggery stated worriedly. He placed the back of his hand on Erskine's forehead. The skin wasn't burning, but it was definitely warm. "Which is understandable, since you _are_ feverish."

"It's probably just a bug," Erskine dismissed, standing up shakily. "I'll be fine tomorrow."

"And until then, I'm looking after you," Skulduggery announced, rising to his feet as well.

"You can't even look after yourself."

"For your information, I am actually doing quite well."

A weak smile was all Skulduggery got for a response. Rolling his eyes, he wrapped an arm around Erskine's waist and pulled him close, giving him a gentle squeeze and feeling the feverish warmth of his body. "Get some rest. I'll get you something to drink."

"Thank you."

Smiling, Skulduggery placed a quick kiss on Erskine's forehead before departing for the kitchen. Much to his surprise, he found Valkyrie slumped over the table in front of a laptop. Upon hearing him, she raised her head up to look at him groggily.

"Don't tell me you're sick, too," Skulduggery lamented. "I've already agreed to look after Erskine."

"Actually, I'm sleep deprived," Valkyrie croaked. "After all, I've been working on this case _all. Fucking. Night._ No thanks to you, by the way."

"Sorry."

"Forget it. You need your beauty sleep, but someday, you're going to have to get used to a sudden lack of it. I had to."

"I'll make you some coffee. Would you like that?"

"Thank you. White, three sugars. Make it strong."

"As you wish, your Highness."

"Cut the crap, bonehead. Coffee. Now."

Scowling, Skulduggery wasted no time in making Valkyrie's coffee before heading back upstairs to Erskine.

"Valkyrie's still bitter about last night," he grumbled as he walked over to Erskine, who was curled up on the windowsill with his head pressed up against the window, which was misting up because of his body heat and the cold outside. "And she's sleep deprived. I advise you stay away from her."

"I had no intention of crossing paths with her anyway," Erskine murmured. He gratefully accepted the glass of cold water that Skulduggery held out for him. "Thank you. I really needed that."

"You're welcome," Skulduggery said, sitting down on the windowsill in front of Erskine. "I've always liked watching thunderstorms. They're quite impressive to watch."

"I guess you're right," Erskine said, gulping down a large mouthful of water. "You know, I've been thinking of a nickname for you recently."

"Oh, dear," Skulduggery lamented, a joking glint sparking in his eye. "Please tell me it's better than 'bonehead'."

"Phoenix."

"You have a cold, too? Bless you."

"No, you bonehead. That's your nickname. Phoenix."

"Oh. Why Phoenix? D-don't take this the wrong way, it's a nice nickname, but… how do _I_ relate to a flaming bird from mythology?"

"Well, when you rose from the dead, it was a rebirth of sorts. The… the burning of your corpse was also a factor, I suppose. Then you regained your life to the full, and that could be considered a second rebirth. Like a phoenix."

"Phoenix, hmm?" Skulduggery mused, a small smile on his face. "I quite like it, actually."

Erskine grinned, but his expression was quickly replaced by a grimace as his guts churned again. "I don't feel good," he groaned.

"That makes two of us," Clarity muttered, their head poking through the door. They looked tired and a little groggy, and there were slight bags beneath their eyes. "I think the Pilau rice that Valkyrie got yesterday was dodgy. You had it, I had it, Dexter had it, and guess what? We're all sick! Whoop de doo."

Erskine and Skulduggery both nodded in understanding. They knew about Clarity's stomach when it came to processed human food. Thankfully, they'd grown more resilient over the years, and it was less of a problem now.

"Listen, you two lovebirds look after each other – I'm looking at you, Skulduggery – and I can take care of myself and Dexter if he needs it."

Without another word, they left. The men just stared after them, speechless.

"Were they implying..?" Erskine asked dumbly.

"I think they were. Wait here, I'm going to talk to them."

Standing up, Skulduggery quickly departed the room, speed walking to catch up with Clarity.

"Clarity," he called. "Wait a moment."

Sighing, Clarity complied. "What? Can't you see I'm ill and irritable?"

"What exactly were you implying just a moment ago?"

"You and Erskine being an item? I was implying that, yes. I'm not stupid, you know. I walk into Erskine's room every few mornings to find you two curled up together like a mated couple. And I know you haven't mated, by the way, so there's no need for you to get ready for when I hit you because of it."

"And you're not upset about it?"

"No. You're good to him, I can see that. Since you two got together, he's gotten so much better, and… I haven't properly thanked you for that. Since he was put into my custody, I've just… I don't know. I guess I've been scared of messing up and making things worse. It's stressful."

Nodding in understanding, Skulduggery placed a hand on their shoulder in an unexpected gesture of kindness. "Don't worry about it anymore. You've got the rest of us now. Just worry about the legal issues for us, and we'll take care of the rest."

"Fuck you, Pleasant."

A cheeky smirk was all they got for a reply before the detective scarpered. Back in Erskine's room, he was quick to snuggle up by Erskine.

"Move over," he said. "Come on, let me keep you warm. The window's cold, and I don't think it'll do you much good."

Erskine complied without much protest, and he was more than happy to curl up in Skulduggery's arms between his legs. "Hmm, you're warm," he murmured, a small smirk twitching on his lips. "Like a phoenix."

"Anything for you, Ersie," Skulduggery crooned, kissing Erskine's jaw lightly. Outside, thunder boomed again. "You should get back into bed and stay warm. You're not going to get better if you stay here."

"For someone who hasn't been sick in two hundred years, you sure know a lot about what to do when someone's ill."

"I took some of your advice and watched some internet videos. I came across a rather interesting Canadian. Matthew Santiago, I think. No, Matthew _Santoro_. That's it."

"Did he have any other sage advice?"

"Shower, stay warm, don't do anything stressful, and sleep."

"Sounds like something I can do. But then again, I might not."

Rolling his eyes, Skulduggery carefully stood up and hooked an arm under Erskine's knees and the other around his back, lifting him up bridal style. To his surprise, it was a lot easier than he expected, and Erskine was remarkably light. Carrying him over to the bed, Skulduggery gently laid him down and pulled the covers over him. Immediately, Erskine curled in on himself in order to lessen the ache in his insides.

"Do you need some painkillers?" Skulduggery asked, carefully checking his forehead again to gauge how bad the man's fever was.

"I think it would help."

"Wait here, then."

* * *

Dexter groaned as another wave of nausea washed over him, making his stomach perform the fifteenth trapeze act this morning and forcing more sweat onto his skin. Something must have been _really_ wrong with that rice to make him this ill. He hated it.

Whilst he silently lamented his fate, Saracen was looking at him gravely. Beside him, the Pups were gathered around a breakfast tray, helping to carry it.

"I fear that there is no cure for your deathly ailment," he stated whilst the Pups very nearly lost the tray's balance and tipped everything onto the floor. "Husky, the hammer if you please."

"What the hell do you need a hammer for?" Dexter grumbled. "Don't tell me you intend to break something."

"The only way to end your pain is to end your life."

"Hell, no!" Dexter protested, only to grimace when his headache spiked.

Saracen grinned mischievously, and looked towards Dingo. "Mind passing the sweet herbal tea?" he requested.

"You jerk, I need coffee!" Dexter spat, scowling up at the dark-haired mage.

"Caffeine is the last thing you need."

"Get me decaf, then!"

"Wow. Grouchy."

"Shut up, you. Now get me coffee."

"How about no?"

If he hadn't been sick, then Dexter would have lunged at him and got him into a chokehold until he turned purple.

"I hate you," Dexter groaned as he accepted a mug of steaming tea from Dingo. It looked like urine and tasted sickeningly sweet. "This is disgusting."

"It'll make you feel better," Saracen said. "Now shut up and drink it."

Dexter mumbled a quiet obscenity under his breath, only to get hit over the head by Saracen. "Not in front of the kids."

"Fine."

* * *

When night came, Erskine was half-asleep in his bed, having not taken his sleeping draught for fear of it messing with his immune system more than what had gotten at him already. He was shivering in a cold sweat, his fever having not improved at all since it had started. Skulduggery was downstairs, conferring with Valkyrie about the case concerning the gaol warden, who also turned out to be dealing sorcerer drugs to mortals, which was illegal in all countries that had a Sanctuary presiding over it; Ireland included.

He felt his stomach churning again, so he shakily got to his feet and stumbled into the bathroom to throw up again. A foul-smelling, acidic bile dripped out of his mouth as he retched, stinging his throat and making his eyes water. The last time he'd been ill like this had been two years ago, and the sickness did not earn him any mercy from his tormentors. In fact, the helplessness that had been inflicted upon him had only resulted in even fiercer… urgh… sessions…

Erskine shuddered, but this time it wasn't from illness or cold. Haunting flashes of horribly familiar sensations; pain, searing heat and a vile taste in his mouth; surfaced in his mind, and he continued to dry heave weakly and moan in discomfort. His head pounded and he found himself crying helplessly as he curled up on the cold white tiles.

"I want to die," he whined to himself. Unbeknownst to him, Valkyrie was in the doorway watching.

"I have Skulduggery's revolver in a kitchen cupboard if you want me to get it," she said jokingly. However she did not receive the intended response. Instead, Erskine backed away in fear, panic rising in his eyes.

"I-I didn't actually mean it," he whimpered, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them.

"Hey, I didn't mean it, either," Valkyrie said calmly, slowly approaching him with her hands raised in a peaceful manner. She was unsure as to how to calm him down, but it would probably help if he realised she wasn't going to be a threat. "I was only joking. You want me to get you anything?"

"Don't touch me," Erskine begged, his shaking becoming more violent. "Don't… don't touch me."

"Okay," Valkyrie consented, halting her path so as not to panic him further. "Look, do you want me to get Clarity?"

"I… Alright… Okay…"

Valkyrie nodded and left the room to find Clarity in their room. The cryptid was lying in bed with a heat pack on their stomach, trying to ease the cramps that the dodgy rice had induced.

"This is your fault, you know that?" Clarity complained as they sat up to look at Valkyrie accusingly.

"Well, I know not to go to _that_ takeaway again," Valkyrie responded. "Blame aside, Erskine is having some sort of attack. He wanted me to go get you."

Immediately, Clarity was on their feet and walking over to Erskine's room. Valkyrie followed after them, and in the bathroom, she found Clarity crouching down in front of the frightened mage and trying to get his attention.

"Valkyrie, could you get Skulduggery?" Clarity requested. "Tell him what's going on."

Confused, Valkyrie opened her mouth to ask why, but decided against it and simply complied, going down to the kitchen to find Skulduggery analysing a file on the laptop. He was wearing a suit despite it being pointless at that moment in time.

"Clarity wants you," Valkyrie said, catching his attention.

"What for?" the detective questioned.

"Erskine is-."

Before Valkyrie even managed to finish, Skulduggery was on his feet and dashing upstairs. The strange turn of events perplexed Valkyrie further, and she was compelled to follow him in order to find out what was going on.

Back in the bathroom, Valkyrie found Clarity still trying to calm Erskine down, but to no avail. He was still anxious to let anyone near him, leaving Valkyrie clueless as to how Skulduggery would help. The man was never the touchy-feely type, and it was unlikely he'd be able to help.

"Hey," Skulduggery ventured as he entered the room, quick to sit down next to Erskine and wrap an arm around his trembling shoulders. To Valkyrie's surprise, he didn't flinch. "What seems to be the problem?"

"I-I feel sick," was the weak reply.

"Worse than earlier?"

"A lot worse."

A look of genuine worry crossed Skulduggery's face, and he carefully lifted Erskine to his feet. As a result, the gold-eyed mage swooned and very nearly threw up again.

"Could one of you get some water?" Skulduggery asked as he led Erskine out of the room. "Make it cold."

Clarity hastily carried out the detective's request, leaving Valkyrie to feel confused.

"How the hell are you able to do that?" she asked. "Not even Clarity could get that close to him."

Skulduggery didn't reply; instead murmuring quiet reassurances in Erskine's ear as he guided him into the bed, allowing him to curl up under the covers. His face was flushed and sweat was dripping down his skin. Glazed gold eyes looked up at the detective wearily, and he seemed to be slipping into delirium.

"Everything's going hazy," he mumbled. "And I'm burning up. It's not nice."

"Clarity will be back with some water soon," Skulduggery said calmly, gently rubbing his shoulder. "You'll be alright."

As Skulduggery had predicted, Clarity came back with a glass of water. Erskine almost drowned himself gulping it down, but he felt a lot better after he did. His vision was clearing up and the uncomfortable heat in his guts began to die down.

"Thanks," he murmured.

"It's alright," Clarity said. "Look, Valkyrie and I will leave you two in peace."

Nodding in agreement, Valkyrie followed the cryptid out of the room before stepping in front of them with a questioning look on her face.

"Do you know what's going on?" she asked. "Because I am clueless."

"You really haven't figured it out yet?" Clarity cut back, a smirk adorning their features. "Erskine and Skulduggery are an item."

The dumbfounded look on Valkyrie's face was the only answer required. And a priceless one at that.

"No way," Valkyrie objected. "You're kidding me, right?"

"Nope. Seriously, you haven't noticed? Not walked into their rooms to find them sleeping together?"

"I must be dreaming."

"Maybe. This could all be a dream. You could just be Stephanie Edgely, asleep in bed and witnessing the craziest dream possible. You might not even be Stephanie Edgely. You could be-."

"Stop that. Stop acting like Skulduggery."

"Sorry."

"Good. Now how did those two get together? Such insanity should be unfathomable."

"Skulduggery's the kind of person who protects those who need it, and Erskine really needs someone to protect him right now. That, and according to Saracen, when Skulduggery got drunk, he kissed Erskine. It kinda just set the ball rolling."

"What a way to get together."

"If relationships could usually start up that easily, then Saracen and Dexter would have hooked up a _long_ time ago."

"Excuse me?"

"They do some weird stuff together when they have too much to drink."

"I don't want to know. Look, I've got to carry on working on that case, even though I'm sleep deprived. According to China, sleep is for the weak."

"You want some help? I don't think I'm going to be able to put up with being cooped up in my room all day."

"Thanks."

* * *

After making sure Erskine's fever had gone down at least slightly, Skulduggery quickly went to his own bedroom to get changed out of his suit and into something more comfortable. Then he returned to lie down on the bed next to his boyfriend, carefully draping an arm across his shoulders and holding him close. Although he was shaking, his skin was blisteringly hot and a mix of dry and damp from sweat.

"You should at least try to get some sleep," he advised. "You're really feverish."

"I don't think I can," Erskine mumbled. "Not without my sleeping draught at least, but I don't think it will agree with me at the moment."

Skulduggery frowned as he mulled over ways in which he could help Erskine get to sleep. None of them seemed to work except for one; an old melody that the younger mage had always had a habit of humming to himself during the war. No one knew the words, but the song itself was apparently an Irish lullaby.

Softly, Skulduggery began humming it to Erskine, running his fingers through his hair as he did so. He was a little off-key at first, seeing as how he hadn't recited the tune in a very long time, but eventually, he managed to pick it up, and the serene notes became soothing in Erskine's ears. He felt his eyelids drooping, and eventually, the peaceful melody of the lullaby; coupled with the exhaustion brought on from fighting off the fever; lulled him into sleep.

"Sleep well, Ersie."

* * *

 **I can't compose my own music too well. But hey, I might give it a shot. I didn't have anything specific in mind for that little lullaby, so I might try writing something.**


	25. Chapter 24

**Umm... yeah... haven't updated in a short while. I... got engulfed in the Gravity Falls fandom. And that several chapters I had written in advance of the ones I've posted? Well, I caught up with them. So updates will be slower now, and nonexistent during my trip to Sweden this month, but I promise that I _will_ finish this story, even if it turns out to be the death of me! I will not fail you!**

 **Okay. Reviews.**

 _ **Eislicht:**_ **Hello! Yes, it is imperative that the idiot warden is captured. Clarity's not done beating him up yet! And I'm glad that you think Phoenix is a suitable nickname for Skul. Yeah, Saracen has a bad sense of humour.**

 _ **Mya2015:**_ **Wow, thanks! I'm so glad you like this story! Hopefully the rest of it won't disappoint.**

* * *

 **Chapter 24 – Overworked**

The moment Skulduggery felt sleep creeping in, he jerked awake and slapped himself until the drowsiness dissipated. Another thing he didn't like about being alive; he kept getting tired, and he couldn't do his job properly.

"Skull," Valkyrie said, interrupting his thoughts. "I'm going to take a break. You ought to get some sleep as well."

"I'd take you up on that offer," Skulduggery began. "But I am not tired, therefore, I do not require sleep. Go; I can work on this case alone for a while."

Valkyrie gave him a sceptical look, but didn't press on; instead standing up and going to one of the lounges that the Sanctuary accommodated specifically for tired employees. Skulduggery's bloodshot eyes followed her wearily until she left, before returning to the papers that lay scattered before him. Ever since he'd found out that one of the many villains who'd abused Erskine was involved in the drug dealing case about a week and a half ago, he'd been working nonstop in order to ensure that the bastard got caught. For the last few days, he hadn't even slept, he was so focused on the task.

However, five minutes after Valkyrie left, Skulduggery was slumped over his desk; overcome by the sleep he'd so desperately tried to fight off.

* * *

Erskine entered the office to find Skulduggery asleep at the desk. Of course. He'd been depriving himself of sleep for two days.

 _Typical. I walk in to find him like this,_ Erskine thought. _But then again, he hasn't been worked himself this hard in a while. Well, when he was alive, at least._

Quietly, Erskine entered the room, placed his coffee on the desk and gently coaxed Skulduggery into wakefulness by shaking his shoulder and calling his name softly. Once roused, the detective stared up at him blearily with bloodshot, half-lidded eyes.

"Sorry Phoenix," was the hushed apology. "But you were going to get a bad back if you were left slumped over the desk like that. Trust me, I know."

Skulduggery mumbled some half-conscious, unintelligible nonsense as he rubbed his eyes before rising to his feet and treating Erskine to a chaste kiss. "I've missed you."

"Skulduggery, it's only been a few days since we last saw each other, and the last time we spoke was just three hours ago."

"I know. I'm just… really tired right now and I can't think straight. My emotions are rather mixed up."

"That's what happens when you overwork yourself for two days without sleeping."

"It'll be worth it when that bastard goes to court."

"Not if you fall asleep during the court hearing, you numbskull."

Skulduggery frowned. "You did that on purpose, didn't you?"

"Yes, now come with me. You need a proper rest."

"Let me guess; you're taking me to the Graveyard, aren't you?"

"Yes, and don't worry. Ghastly's complained about the name as well, but Mesmer isn't letting him change it."

"She has a horrible sense of humour, that woman."

* * *

The Graveyard was a lounge area allocated for the Dead Men and their associates upon insistence from Mesmer, who believed that the war heroes were entitled to it after having served Ireland so well for so long. Ghastly and Valkyrie were the most frequent users of it, but Saracen and Dexter visited every so often and used the lounge as a meet-up venue. Skulduggery hadn't seen it before, but so far, he was impressed. The couches were pretty comfortable, and the colours were neither dull nor garish. In fact, they were rather relaxing; soft hues of purple and blue mixed with lavish browns that should have clashed, but fitted surprisingly well. A large TV perched over a fireplace; currently switched off; in the corner was a small desk, and was that a snack table by the wall?

The moment he saw it, Skulduggery's stomach started growling, making him realise he couldn't remember the last time he'd had a proper meal. He could actually feel the emptiness that his hunger had carved into his insides, and the gurgling demands of his digestive organs were beginning to get a little painful.

"When was the last time you ate?" Erskine asked worriedly, sipping his coffee briefly. "I swear, China would have heard that from her office."

"Screw her," Skulduggery retorted. "She's the one who said I have to put the majority of my effort into that blasted case."

"I'm guessing it's not to benefit me, though."

"Afraid not. She didn't even bat an eyelid when I told her about the warden's involvement. Bastard didn't even get an arrest warrant."

"Knowing you and how hard you've been working, he will soon."

"Oh, trust me, he will."

"I like your determination, but right now, you need something to eat. Go on, before someone files a complaint about the earthquakes."

"Hey, it's not _that_ loud!"

"Stop arguing and get some food off of the table."

"Okay!" Skulduggery flustered, walking over to the snack table and observing the array of food that it had to offer. But of course, he wasn't focusing on the food any more, just how much it warmed him when Erskine behaved like this. When protective worry showed as irritation, it was a reminder of how he used to be before his bold, smooth-talking personality got shut out and destroyed, and it gave Skulduggery hope that some part of it could be salvaged in order to make Erskine that little bit stronger.

Skulduggery was pulled from his thoughts when his stomach ordered him to focus on the food and not his lover. Eager to get rid of the cramps of hunger, he picked up a plate and started piling food onto it. His meal consisted of a ham sandwich, a handful of prawn cocktail crisps, six of those mini cocktail sausages that he'd seen people at the Requiem Ball eating with cheese, a cupcake and a large double chocolate chip cookie.

"That's healthy," Erskine remarked sarcastically as Skulduggery sat down next to him.

"It's food," was the blunt reply. "You wanted me to get it."

"Let's just hope that you're not allergic to chocolate then."

Skulduggery paused; the sandwich halfway to his mouth; the look on his face nothing more than comical. It was a mix of worry, shock and 'am I going to die from eating this?' Then he just shrugged and put it in his mouth, making a show of trying to fit in as much of the sandwich as possible.

"What are you trying to prove by doing that?" Erskine questioned.

"Nuffin'," Skulduggery managed to reply through a mouthful of bread and meat. "I'm jusht 'ungry."

Erskine just stared at the immature display blankly. "You're ridiculous, you know that?"

Skulduggery's response was an incomprehensible mumble and a no-less-indecipherable gesture of his hand, which was basically just waving it above his head.

"Forget I said anything."

Skulduggery shrugged, content to just finish eating his sandwich. Once done, he started to eat the crisps. They were okay, but he probably wouldn't be rushing to the shops for them any time soon. He also decided he didn't like the cocktail sausages.

"They taste better with cheese," Erskine said when he noticed the grimace on Skulduggery's face. "That's why they're always there at the Requiem Balls; appetizers that no one wants, but eats anyway because they're worried that they'll offend someone."

"They're still disgusting," Skulduggery grumbled as he picked up the cupcake and pulled off the shiny silver wrapper. It was a typical vanilla cupcake with light blue icing and pink flowers iced on top. As pretty as it was, it didn't stop him from biting down into it and relishing the sugary sweetness of it and the comfortingly familiar taste of vanilla. "This, however, is actually quite nice."

Erskine smiled at Skulduggery's childish enjoyment and leaned back into the sofa, allowing himself to daydream. It didn't last long, because he was interrupted from his thoughts when the smell of chocolate wafted under his nose. Looking at Skulduggery, he noticed that the detective in question was smiling at him playfully and waving a piece of the chocolate chip cookie in front of his face.

"Go on," he coaxed, bringing the cookie to Erskine's lips. "Try it."

Curious as to what was going on, Erskine opened his mouth expectantly. He shouldn't really have been all that surprised when a pair of soft, warm lips suddenly met with his own, but when one expects cookies instead of a kiss, it can be somewhat surprising. A gentle hand ran down his side, sending shivers along his spine, and fingers tenderly entwined themselves in the locks of his hair to entice him into a deeper kiss. Blazing heat raged in his blood and he melted into Skulduggery's embrace as desire flooded his mind. The hand that was resting on his waist slowly trailed down to his hip and stroked along his thigh; the touch sparking nervous pleasure in him. Bliss coursed through his entire being; dulling his senses to the point where all that mattered was the man in front of him and the unbearably wonderful euphoria that was overtaking him.

"Hey, do everyone a favour and don't start making out on the couch."

Startled by the sudden intrusion, Skulduggery pulled away, prompting a needy whine from Erskine. There was a dazed look in his eyes, and he was rather oblivious to Valkyrie's presence in the room. Speaking of which, the girl in black was stood by the door, staring at the pair blankly.

"You have no idea how weird it is to see you two kiss like that," she said bluntly.

Skulduggery just looked at his partner in confusion, wondering why she wasn't making ludicrous accusations or questioning his sanity. He was so caught up in his bewilderment that he didn't notice when Erskine huddled up to him and started nuzzling his neck endearingly.

"Clarity told me after Erskine got sick the other week," Valkyrie explained. "And hey, I know that it's your choice who you kiss, but I think Erskine might be high."

Somewhat baffled, Skulduggery looked down towards the younger mage, who was wrapping his arms around his neck and rubbing his face against Skulduggery's.

"What are you up to, hmm?" the detective asked, observing the golden eyes that were glazed over with lust. "Something wrong?"

Erskine murmured something incomprehensible under his breath and leaned in for another kiss, haphazardly catching Skulduggery's lips in his own. Despite his concerns, Skulduggery returned it, allowing his boyfriend to press up against him in eagerness. It was enjoyable, but there seemed to be a forcefulness behind it that gave the kiss a bitter edge.

Eventually, Skulduggery pushed away, causing Erskine to growl in annoyed protest.

"Where did that sudden attitude come from?" Skulduggery questioned, his tone taking on a slight edge that managed to draw Erskine out of his desire-driven daze. "I know it's nice to know that you're improving, but you could at least tell me first."

Shame immediately found its way into Erskine's eyes, and he hastily looked away. "I'm sorry," he murmured. "It's just… the nightmares have been getting worse. I haven't been sleeping too well."

Pained guilt immediately stabbed at Skulduggery's chest, and he began to realise that it was probably not the best decision to spend consecutive days and nights working at the Sanctuary whilst Erskine was still trying to fight back his own fears and problems. True, there'd been obvious signs of improvement, but that had been when they were together to support each other. Skulduggery had rarely left his lover's side until recently.

"No, it's my fault," he said quietly, pulling Erskine close and pressing his face into his lover's hair, breathing in the scent of cheap shampoo and burnt toast. "I've been neglecting you."

"You've been trying to help me."

"But I've been doing it wrong. Yes, putting that abusive psychopath to justice will give you closure, but you still need help recovering. You still get nervous around the others; I've noticed; and there's the problem you have with physical contact."

"I've been getting better. Just a moment ago, when you-."

"When _I_ touched you. But remember when Dexter thought it would be funny to start a dog pile on top of Saracen and you joined in? The moment Valkyrie was sat on your back, you threw her off as if she'd stung you. I'm surprised you didn't send her flying into the ceiling."

Erskine clammed up. He had nothing to say to that. Skulduggery was right; he was far from a full recovery. When was the last time someone had managed to wrap an arm around his shoulders without making him flinch? How long had it been since he'd returned a hug without hesitation? Not before his goddamned imprisonment, that was for sure.

"Listen, as much as I love watching you two being sappy together," Valkyrie interrupted, having just sat down with a plate of food on her lap. "Skulduggery, you look like you're going to fall asleep at any moment now, and you should really just hit the hay whilst you still have your dignity intact. You don't want to wind up falling asleep in an… awkward position."

The detective immediately shot a disgruntled glare in her direction, and Erskine turned around to observe him. It was obvious; and getting more so by the second; that Skulduggery desperately needed sleep. Thick, dark purple circles surrounded his eyes, accentuating how horribly bloodshot they are, and the violet of the irises was visibly dulled down. His eyelids kept drooping every few seconds, only to snap open the moment the lapse in focus was discovered.

"She's right," Erskine said solemnly. "You need sleep."

Skulduggery opened his mouth to protest, only for a yawn to intercept his words and debunk any argument that may have been formulating in his head. Deciding that he was defeated, he reluctantly nodded in agreement before slipping out of his suit jacket and taking off his hat; placing them both on top of the back rest of the sofa.

"You win," he grumbled, kicking off his shoes. "Just don't start working on the case without me."

Erskine shifted down to Skulduggery's feet as the man lay down across the sofa with his head on his arm and legs thankfully not hanging over the armrest. It was a big sofa. The moment he was settled, the sudden, overwhelming exhaustion that had been stalking him finally pounced. His eyelids immediately slid shut and he instinctively curled up somewhat. The calming yet sinister tides of sleep took his lack of stubbornness as an opportunity to drag him down into a deep slumber.

Valkyrie waited until Skulduggery was definitely asleep before focusing her attention on Erskine. The gold-eyed mage was looking down at his boyfriend – she _still_ couldn't believe that the two men were in a relationship – fondly; an expression that was rarely seen on his face. Ever.

"So you really care for him, huh?" Valkyrie questioned, causing Erskine to look up at her worriedly. Did she doubt him? Then again, that was likely the reason for her suspicion.

"I… of course," Erskine said. "I-."

"You're good for each other," the girl in black suddenly, taking a bite out of her sandwich. "And I can't believe I'm saying that either. Just… look after him, okay? He's more fragile than he looks."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Erskine gave Valkyrie a gratifying smile. "I know. Even before he died, he had moments when he needed protecting. His father… well, you couldn't say he was famous for winning any Best Dad awards, that's for certain. Not that he was abusive, he just… wasn't necessarily a man anyone could get along with. He was harsh, stubborn and unforgiving."

"Sounds like an asshole. Where is he now?"

Erskine shrugged. "Dead. Got shot between the eyes after Mevolent's men got him. His wife fell into depression before passing away a decade later. But I don't think much love was lost between him and Skulduggery."

"Oh. You don't seem all too bothered by that."

"The man gave him nightmares, Valkyrie," Erskine murmured, his eyes darting over to Skulduggery before flickering back to Valkyrie. He still couldn't look her in the eyes. "And would likely have attempted to kill Skulduggery if he'd lived to find out about this."

"Oh. Well… that explains why he doesn't talk much about his family. Or his past in general. Has he got any dirty secrets that you know about?"

Erskine's eyes widened before the shock was replaced with a smirk. "And why, pray tell, would I divulge my sweet beloved's darkest, most clandestine secrets to you, Valkyrie?" he questioned dramatically, the nearly forgotten remnants of his old sense of humour rising to the surface.

"Wow, look who's just eaten a poetry book," Valkyrie drawled. "But to answer your question; people are supposed to gossip about their partners. So come on; spill it. Any bad habits you want to complain about?"

"Besides his obvious stubbornness? No, there's nothing I want to complain about."

"Oh. So, he doesn't talk in his sleep? No suddenly singing Grace Kelly songs or anything like that?"

"He doesn't sing, but he occasionally talks in his sleep. But then again, so do I."

"Okay, then; next question. What's it like to kiss him?"

"This again? Saracen's already asked me this!"


	26. Chapter 25

**I'm back! Just going to respond to reviews and let you get on with reading.**

 _ **Mya2015:**_ **Kinda, and thanks :)**

 **Now enjoy as I present you more traumatised Erskine.**

* * *

 **Chapter 25 – Let the Sleepless Wolves Rest**

 _"_ _Is everything alright, Erskine?" Clarity asked, turning around to face the man on crutches who stood in the middle of the RV, looking at them apprehensively. Erskine had gotten out of the gaol several days ago, and so far, his condition hadn't changed. If anything, it had gotten worse. He was perpetually absent-minded, and whenever anyone did manage to get his attention, he was tossed into a panic attack that left him crippled with fear. Waking up every morning was a struggle for him, and Clarity had lost count of the amount of times he very nearly collapsed and risked breaking his arm after getting it caught in the handles of his crutches._

 _"_ _I… I-I, um…" Erskine stammered; too afraid to say anything. Whenever he'd said that something was bothering him back at the gaol, somebody would hit him. One time, he'd even had his head smashed into a wall. "I… I-I haven't been sleeping recently. I can't… I can't sleep, and it's really… r-really getting to me."_

 _He was shaking by this point, and his throat was feeling tight. Tears pricked at his eyes, and the moment he tried to open his mouth to continue speaking, they were falling freely down his gaunt cheeks and soaking the bandages over his damaged eye. In desperation, he tried to stifle the sobs that were threatening to escape him, but he only succeeded in making the fierce convulsions of his chest more violent to the point where it was painful._

 _Worried, but hardly shocked by the sudden breakdown, Clarity tentatively stepped forward and coaxed him into a gentle embrace; hoping to calm him down. Erskine more or less collapsed into their arms after a moment; chest heaving immensely as he sobbed into Clarity's shoulder._

 _"_ _I… I'm s-sorry," Erskine whimpered, his voice muffled by the now damp fabric of Clarity's shirt. "I-I w-wouldn't be c-causing s-so much t-trouble if I hadn't been so… so selfish!"_

 _Clarity sighed hopelessly and rubbed Erskine's back in an attempt to calm him down. "It's not your fault," they said firmly. "And you're not causing any trouble; there's nothing to be sorry about. How long has it been since you last slept?"_

 _"_ _I can't… I can't remember… E-everything's foggy, and it hurts to think…"_

 _Pain lanced through Clarity, and they regretted pushing Erskine away; mostly because of the hurt in his eyes and the way he desperately clung to them. He was still crying and shivering when he was guided over to the bed and sat down on it, and the only comprehensible words that escaped him were mumbled apologies and quiet, fearful ramblings._

 _"_ _Try to get some rest," Clarity told him, waiting for him to lie down before draping a blanket over his thin body. "I'll find something to help you sleep; don't worry."_

* * *

 _Little more than a week later; several days after arriving in Canada to be precise; Erskine found himself looking down at a small vial that lay in his hand late one evening. It was the same size as his ring finger and filled with a translucent, glittering, silver-blue liquid that managed to hypnotize him in his nearly brain-dead state of mind._

 _"_ _Take it when you're ready," Clarity had said when they'd handed it to him. "The guy gave me directions on how to make it, so you don't have to worry about wasting anything."_

 _"_ _Thank you," Erskine had murmured softly. Satisfied, Clarity had left the RV to talk to the others about where to go next._

 _It was ten minutes before Erskine finally managed to drag himself out of his trance. Exhaustion tugged at his mind, and he could barely process any meaningful thought any more. The most complex sentence that he could formulate was 'this is pretty.' Clearly, he needed to sleep._

 _Slowly and tediously, he pulled off his clothes and haphazardly slipped a baggy shirt and boxers over his bandaged form. The shirt was back to front, but other than that, he was as comfortable as he could get with all the partially healed injuries that covered him. Once he was done, he picked up the vial from where he'd left it on the bed and fumbled with the screwcap that prevented any of the medicine from spilling anywhere. After a few minutes of staring at it blankly, he hesitantly brought it to his dry lips and tipped his head back, swallowing the sleeping draught as if it were a shot of whiskey. But unlike whiskey, the liquid was sweet and soothing on his throat and didn't make his eyes water._

 _Several moments later, he decided that he probably shouldn't have been standing up when he drank the sleeping draught. A cool, fatiguing fog rolled into his mind; more comforting than the one that usually plagued him with stinging headaches; and he started swaying on his feet as if he were drunk. His legs were even more unwilling to support his weight, and he finally complied; sluggishly pulling back the bedsheets on his bunk and crawling underneath them. The moment he was curled up on the bed with the blanket gathered around him, he gave in to the depths of sleep._

 _An hour later, Clarity walked in to find Erskine sleeping peacefully for the first time in god knew how long. Comforted by this small respite, they silently walked up and tucked him in a little tighter, making sure he wasn't agitating his wounds. The unwelcome contact sparked up that usual fear yet again, and Erskine started whining; making feeble attempts to shove Clarity away._

 _"_ _Please don't," he whimpered, sounding almost on the verge of tears. "D-don't touch me."_

 _Clarity sighed and firmly pushed Erskine's bandaged hands away; gently rubbing the pad of their thumb against his palm in soothing motions. Hushed reassurances murmured from their lips, promising not to hurt him and that he was safe. The whole thing reminded them of when Dipper was a child and woke up after a nightmare._

And to think it was little over a century ago when I was the child and you were the one promising me safety, _Clarity thought._ This world is a cruel hell, regardless of which god made it and the heaven that they promised us.

* * *

Ghastly walked into the Graveyard to find something he'd never expected to see. Skulduggery and Erskine were both asleep on one of the sofas. Together. And his eyes were not playing tricks on him. The detective had his arms wrapped around the smaller mage, whose head was resting on Skulduggery's chest. An empty vial lay on the coffee table, its clear surface glinting noticeably.

Shaking his head, Ghastly decided to think nothing of it and made himself a coffee before sitting down on another couch and switching on the television. He could ask questions later.

About halfway through the lousy crime documentary that he was watching, Valkyrie came in with a small stack of papers. She shot a somewhat disbelieving look towards the two sleeping mages, but made no comment as she sat down opposite Ghastly and started rifling through the forms.

"Any theories as to why..?" Ghastly ventured, trailing off and instead choosing to tilt his head in the direction of Skulduggery and Erskine.

Valkyrie simply glanced at the men in question before returning to her work. "Who knows?" she said nonchalantly. "I gave up trying to figure them out ages ago."

Not entirely satisfied with the answer, but sensing he wouldn't get anything better, Ghastly shrugged and returned half of his attention to the television. The other half was focused on reasons as to why Skulduggery and Erskine were sleeping together. He remembered Clarity saying something about Erskine experiencing nightmares, and something about difficulty sleeping, but he failed to see how that had much to do with anything. But then again, the two had shared tents during the war, maybe they were just doing what they had in the old days; remained close just for reassurance. It was plausible.

As he continued to ponder this, his thoughts were interrupted by soft, fearful whimpers. Looking towards the source of the noise, he saw that Erskine had started stirring in his sleep; faint twitches shuddering along his body. He had his back to Ghastly, so the Elder didn't know what sort of expression he had on his face, but Skulduggery's brow was beginning to crease in concern. Blinking into a half-awake state, he raised his head a fraction and looked down at the smaller man in his arms, who had descended into a bout of weak, terror-fuelled sobs.

"Erskine," Skulduggery murmured, his velvety tone hushed and reassuring. "Erskine, it's just a nightmare. I'm right here, it's okay."

A feeble whine escaped Erskine's lips, and he pressed up against Skulduggery's chest some more, shivering weakly. The detective hummed softly, and tightened his embrace on the smaller mage, running a gentle hand through Erskine's hair. "No one's going to hurt you," he whispered.

Ghastly watched the whole thing with curiosity and apprehension, only allowing his nerves to ease when Erskine had quieted and settled somewhat. His eyes locked onto Skulduggery, who had a satisfied, relieved expression in his half-lidded eyes as he lowered his head and fell asleep again.

 _Nightmares,_ Ghastly concluded grimly. It was quite… disconcerting… how badly shaken Erskine still was by his ordeal. He probably wasn't the first person to have these thoughts; anyone who had known him even slightly before his betrayal would have expected the powerful, confident Grand Mage figure to have returned, not a shattered soul who was forced to lean so heavily on others for even the slightest bit of strength. Because that was in fact the case. Alone; Erskine had no might left; he was broken to the point where any attempts to fix him would not be rewarded with the _mask_ he once wore. Perhaps a cheap copy, but it would never be the same. That tough, robust exterior had only been there to defend the fragile, sensitive man beneath; the one who cared too much; as was the case with the rest of the Dead Men. Because the whole thing was a collection of elaborate masks. Very few got to see what lay beneath them. Skulduggery's elegant, puzzling façade hid a young vagabond who was haunted by the past; Dexter's sweet-talking masquerade only served to obscure a fidgety colt who found it difficult to form solid commitments; and even Ghastly had fashioned himself a rough but sturdy war mask to protect himself.

"Is everything okay, Ghastly?"

Ghastly's eyes snapped onto Valkyrie, who was still rifling through papers. "Nothing," he said quietly. "I was just thinking."

Valkyrie looked like she wanted to say more, but instead returned to her work. It was best to let the sleepless wolves rest for now.

* * *

 **That... that talk about masks? I'm writing a drabblefic about it. Keep an eye out for that, because it'll be the first of a collection of random-ass oneshots and stuff.**


	27. Chapter 26

**Uuurgh! This took too long! I wanted to make it longer, but I got stuck, so... be happy with this chapter, I'll move onto the next one, _finally_!**

 **A chapter set during Christmas, even though it's not Christmas. Yay!**

 **Okay, reviews. Let's get these answered.**

 _ **Guest:**_ **Glad you're enjoying it :)**

 _ **Eislicht:**_ **Aaw, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry! :( I'm glad that the chapter got better, though, and yeah. Mesmer likes to annoy people with her bad sense of humour.**

 _ **TheMadHatter74:**_ **Yeah, I didn't expect it to become much of a ship when I first through of it. Then I started thinking about it more, and then I just... I decided to build the ship and set sail XD Too much trauma? Umm... Whoops, hehe... My bad...**

 **And on the subject of Ghastly, Anton and the Monster Hunters, I'm going to write a oneshot about that in the future. It'll be part of the 'Before, During, After and Otherwise' collection.**

 **Well, I'm glad that people are enjoying this story and being patient with me. The next chapter will come up more quickly, I promise.**

* * *

 **Chapter 26 – December's Fangs**

It probably hadn't been a good idea to leave the bedroom window open overnight during December. It more or less literally came to bite Skulduggery and Erskine into wakefulness the next morning.

"Jesus Christ, it's cold," Erskine cursed blearily, curling up tighter into Skulduggery's arms for warmth. "Definitely not something you want to wake up to."

Highly perturbed by Mother Nature's rude wake-up call, Skulduggery gave a wordless growl of irritation and pulled the bedsheets over himself and Erskine. Heat swamped them both immediately, and provided them some respite from the biting temperature.

"When I was dead, the cold didn't get to me like this did," Skulduggery grumbled as he nuzzled Erskine's neck; the friction sending small sparks of pleasure flittering through the smaller mage.

"When you were dead, you didn't have any actual nerve endings, or any reason to be bothered by the cold," Erskine remarked.

"Touché."

* * *

Clarity hadn't noticed the slow increase in Christmas decorations that had accumulated throughout the mansion; hadn't realised that Valkyrie and the Pups had been the only ones to be putting them up; failed to recognise the meaning of the holly wreath that was hung on the door. Such things didn't matter all that much to them. Things changed, and they merely accepted it and sat by as the alterations took place.

They only began to realise that these developments were of significance when they caught Valkyrie erecting a tree in the living room. And not just any tree; a fir tree; the kind with the soft-pointed needles and bristling with the damned things. Clarity's first thought was _'This is going to murder the hoover when it starts shedding'_ ; quickly followed by _'Crap! It's December!'_

"Why didn't you tell me?" they implored loudly, catching Valkyrie's attention all of a sudden. "Dammit, Val, has anyone told you not to trust me with keeping track of dates?"

"Wait…" Valkyrie began. "You didn't know it was Christmas? For real?"

"Yes! For real! If someone starts putting up decorations, then I don't realise there's anything going on!"

Dumbfounded, Valkyrie stared at Clarity in a disbelieving fashion. "W-why?"

Clarity shrugged. "I just don't let change affect me. I have to rely on others to remind me of these types of things."

"At least tell me you've done some Christmas shopping."

"Nope."

"Get dressed, we're going Christmas shopping. The tree can wait."

* * *

"Err… where are Clarity, Val and the Pups?" Saracen asked as he walked into the living room. He'd woken up in a half-asleep stupor, and only noticed the absence of the five when he stumbled into the kitchen to realise that no one had made any coffee yet. And that he had no idea how to work Valkyrie's machine.

"I don't know," Dexter said as he followed close behind. Then he stopped; eyes locked on something in the corner of the room. "Why is there a… tree in the living room?"

Saracen just stared at the fir tree in question, wondering how on earth they hadn't noticed it before. "Oh," he murmured when everything finally clicked. "Val celebrates Christmas."

"And you've only noticed that now?" Skulduggery drawled as he walked in with Erskine at his side. "She hasn't shut up about it."

"I chose not to listen."

Exasperated, Skulduggery rolled his eyes and made to step forward, only for a hand to hold him back to the shoulder. Looking back, he saw Erskine looking at him nervously; glancing briefly up at the ceiling from time to time. Following his gaze, Skulduggery saw the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the doorframe; waxy green leaves gleaming in the light of the living room. Oh.

"You don't have to use tradition as an excuse to kiss me, you know," Skulduggery told him gently. However, he smiled and kissed Erskine anyway; ignoring the none-too-obvious stare from Dexter. Let him look, it wasn't as if he cared.

"I thought you were kidding," Dexter hissed in Saracen's ear. "But wow, they really are an item."

If the couple beneath the mistletoe had heard him, they paid no attention to him, instead embracing each other fondly as they broke off the kiss. Sappy grins were plastered onto their faces, and they both looked positively love-struck.

"Ahem," Saracen coughed, politely interrupting the cheesy romance. "As lovely as it is to see you two like that, we still have no idea where Val and the others are."

"They're probably just out shopping," Skulduggery dismissed. "We should make the most of this peace and quiet; it's probable that we won't be getting any for the rest of the month. Valkyrie said she was hosting the festivities this year, and a lot of rowdy, drunk Edgelys are going to be staying, gorging themselves on Christmas pudding and… whatever else people eat at this time of year."

"Okay, so… shall we start with breakfast? Who knows how to work the coffee machine?"


	28. Chapter 27

**Yes! I'm back in the game!**

 **Okay, so there's alcohol in this chapter. A lot of alcohol. (And very, _very_ heavily implied drunk Sexter in the background, for all you Dexacen lovers out there *waggles eyebrows*)**

 _ **LionsandTrolls:**_ _ **Where the fuck have you been?! Okay, I'm calm. But seriously, it's good to read your words again, and thanks for understanding. Writer's block is a bitch. I've... read all the chapters, but I may have missed the cameo. I'll** **have another look.**_

 _ **Haha, I have you trapped on this ship! You shan't leave!**_

 _ **Oooh! Cookie! Gimme more, and I'll consider it. (just kidding, of course I forgive you!)**_

 _ ***blushes* Wow, thanks. I do try to make them as unique as possible. Umm... Fanfiction deleted the link... Just send me your username, I have an account on there, too. :)**_

 **Okay, onwards!**

* * *

 **Chapter 27 – Drunken Celebrations**

It was a rare occasion when Erskine managed to get so drunk he nigh on forgot how to walk in a straight line. His impressive, centuries-old tolerance of alcohol often prevented such an occurrence, but it wasn't impossible for him to get himself well and truly hammered.

The Edgely family Christmas reunion was one such occasion. Being surrounded by drunken mortals who were constantly offering him drinks that he was too polite to refuse, he got outstandingly tipsy in what must have been record time. It wasn't long before his tense shoulders and his strained, nerve-wracked conversations became slurred and more easy-going as the worry brought on by the presence of so many loud drunks faded.

From the corner of the room, Skulduggery was watching with an attentive eye, making sure nothing out of the ordinary happened. He was glad that Erskine was enjoying himself, despite the copious amounts of alcohol involved. He noticed Saracen and Dexter sharing a passionate kiss by the door, and Clarity was being corralled into a contest against Fergus Edgely as to how many shots of liqour they could down in a minute. A smirk teased the edge of Skulduggery's lips. Not only did Clarity have an inhumanly fast metabolism that prevented them from getting drunk no matter how much they drank, but they could hold it down, too. That, and Fergus was already very heavily intoxicated. The man was walking right into the jaws of defeat.

Managing to nurse only one can of shandy throughout most of the night, Skulduggery was still very sober when Erskine stumbled over to him and more or less fell into his arms. The smaller mage was blushing nervously, and there was a smear of purple lipstick on his cheek.

"Phoenix," he mumbled, burying his face into Skulduggery's shoulder and clinging to him in desperation. "Beryl's tryin'a kiss me."

At this, Vile snarled jealously, but Skulduggery blocked him out.

"Ersie, she's probably drunk," Skulduggery explained, gently kissing Erskine's forehead and wiping away the purple stain on his face. "Don't worry, I'll make sure she doesn't try to kiss you again."

"Thank you."

* * *

Half an hour before the party reached its end, Skulduggery found himself slow dancing around the room with a surprisingly steady-footed Erskine. He'd managed to keep the gold-eyed man away from drinking any more alcohol, meaning he was no longer as inhibited by drunkenness as before. _'The First Time Ever I Saw Your Face'_ was playing, probably because someone had gotten so drunk they forgot which holiday they were meant to be celebrating. Fergus Edgely was passed out by the snack table whilst Clarity stood to the side, sipping from a flute of champagne. Off to the side, Valkyrie was conversing with the reflection that had taken the place of her cousin Carol. The skinnier twin was absent; she'd never shown up to the party; and the bottle blonde reflection had seemed… agitated by it. Saracen and Dexter had left the party a while ago, stumbling and bearing heavy blushes on their faces. Chances were, they'd wake up with no clothes and really painful hangovers.

"Look at them," Erskine murmured, his words so quiet that Skulduggery almost didn't hear him. Looking down, he saw that his boyfriend's eyes were focused on the mortals around them.

"What about them?"

Erskine's face screwed up with regret, and he pressed his face into the crook of Skulduggery's neck. "They're all so happy," he whined. "They've got no idea that there's… I don't know… ten… I think it's ten… magical folk amongst them at this very moment, and they probably pass by at least a dozen more every day when they're just… living their lives. And they have no freaking idea, and they're so happy and ignorant."

"And? I feel an 'and' coming up, there."

"And I wanted to take that away from them," Erskine lamented, pulling away and wringing his hands together, the flicking movements of his fingers indicating that he was considering lighting a spark. "And I… I still want to take it away."

Concern washed over Skulduggery, and he cupped his own hands over his lover's. "What are you trying to say?"

It was pain that revealed itself on Erskine's face. "I haven't changed at all since… since…"

Skulduggery quickly moved in to console him, unable to stand even the slightest inkling of tears. "Hey, it's okay," he crooned, bringing Erskine's hands to his chest and gently resting his forehead against the other's. "Ersie, look at me. Can you do that for me? Looking me in the eye? Please."

"My eyes…"

"Are gorgeous; I wouldn't change them for the world. There is no need to be ashamed of them."

With some hesitation, Erskine raised his eyes to meet Skulduggery's, and the latter shot him a reassuring smile in an effort to calm him.

"Thank you. Now, I hope you remember this when you sober up, because I doubt I'll be able to pull this speech off twice. You have changed since… since _then_ , and that's honestly quite the feat for someone like us. Yes, you say you still want to show these people who we are, but something tells me it's for a different reason to the ones you had before. Am I correct?"

"I'm tired of hiding," Erskine mumbled, a frown settling on his features. "I feel opressed. Helpless."

He snapped his fingers, summoning the barest of flames. A flash of panic raced through Skulduggery's body, but a quick glance around the room told him that no mortals had noticed, and that everyone was likely too drunk to remember, even if they did notice.

"I get that feeling, too," Skulduggery whispered, gently cupping his hands over the flame; feeling its warmth against his palms. "And we're not the only oes."

"I showed you that, didn't I?"

"… You did…"

"I'm sorry," was the nearly inaudible whimper that escaped Erskine's lips. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… I thought I would be helping them. But none of them are ready for us. Not yet, and it'll probably be… centuries… before they'll ever be. And I tried pushing them straight into the deep end."

"True, but you've repented for it," Skulduggery continued, still concealing the flame in Erskine's palm. It was flickering; the light dimming and struggling to shine through the miniscule gaps between his fingers. "You _have_ changed. You don't want power, you don't want control or supremacy. You just want to stop hiding; you want to feel safe. There is nothing wrong with wanting something like that." Slowly, he retreated his hands from the flame, leaving it open to discovery. It no longer flickered, and managed to keep burning brightly.

Eventually, Erskine snuffed it out. "Inevitable," he muttered, his thoughts clearly elsewhere by now. "No matter how hard you try to put it off, it's inevitable."

With a small sigh, Skulduggery wrapped an arm around Erskine's shoulders and gently guided him out of the room. "Let's get to bed," he murmured. "You're drunk, I'm tired, and it's obvious that you'll be waking up with a headache and the urge to empty your stomach in the morning."

"Okay."

* * *

 **Massive symbolism in this chapter. Cake and cookies to the person who gets it and writes a review explaining it the most accurately. Also, I might write a little Sexter oneshot about the morning after this party, if you know what I mean. Angst, denial and hangovers galore!**


	29. Chapter 28

***rises violently from the grave* I LIVE!**

 **Sweet lord, it's been almost a year O_o I'M SO SORRY**

 **So a lot's happened in the past year. I fell into Undertale, Marvel, and various other fandoms, and I got stuck on how to proceed with this story. _Very stuck_. Hopefully you guys are still interested in reading this story, but if not, then I understand. It's been a while. Regardless, I'm going to finish it!**

 **Enjoy this admittedly short chapter, and the bomb that I'm dropping onto your heads :P**

* * *

 **Chapter 28 - Whimsy Walker**

Christmas was less than a week away, and in Edgely Manor, it was being received with both excitement and morbid horror. Valkyrie and the Pups were both wrapped up **(puns!)** in the Christmas cheer, and even roped a reluctant clarity into helping with decorations and buying presents. The Dead Men didn't dare get in Valkyrie's way, preferring to keep to themselves this time of year. Christmas was a time for family, which none of them really had anymore, for various reasons.

But they didn't complain about the cheesy Christmas songs being blasted from the radio, or the tinsel and pine needles that got absolutely _everywhere_ , or the constant replays of classic Christmas movies that they'd grown sick of at least fifteen years ago, for Valkyrie's sake. She was young, and her family was still with her; she deserved to enjoy the holiday to its full extent while she could.

They would've spent all their time hiding away in the Sanctuary, but sadly, they weren't free from the mind-numbing cheer there, either. Mesmer had used her influence (both psychic and authoritative) to get the staff to decorate every room possible. Ghastly was just thankful she'd shown some restraint, and drawn the line at a few garlands, wreaths, and other simple decorations for any other holidays that the Sanctuary staff celebrated. He didn't think he'd be able to handle the sight of tinsel wrapped around the Cleavers' scythes like last year, or pine needles littering the floor and making a mess of his clothes. Although he was a little miffed at the obnoxious blinking of the light-up tree someone had placed on his desk whilst he'd stepped out for a coffee. Setting his drink next to the pile of paperwork, he unplugged the distracting ornament before getting back to work.

The peace didn't last long though, before he was distracted yet again by the shrill shrieks of Tipstaff echoing into his office.

"Miss, I can't allow you to go in there! Elder Bespoke is working, you need to schedule a meeting with him!"

Ghastly didn't hear anyone answer, so he assumed that the Administrator was being ignored. His assumptions were confirmed when the door to his office opened and someone walked in. Without knocking, might he add, but that was hardly more irritating than Tipstaff's distressed yelling.

"Miss, I must ask you to leave!" he demanded loudly, rushing in after the woman, who was now stood in front of Ghastly's desk and looking a little lost. She looked young, seemingly not much older than twenty, with a petite frame and an almost fragile demeanour about her. Long, light brown hair was tied up in a plait, and stray strands were held back by a yellow headband. Her clothing was a simple affair of denim jeans and a loose white t-shirt decorated with roses.

But it was her eyes that caught Ghastly's attention. Pale, pale blue, flecked with gold, tired and stressed as if she hadn't slept in a while.

He recognised her from somewhere…

"It's alright, Tipstaff," Ghastly said calmly. "I have time."

For a moment, Tipstaff could only flounder for words before he just nodded and left. Ghastly put aside the paperwork in front of him and gave the woman a friendly smile.

"Please, sit down, Miss," he offered, gesturing towards the empty chair in front of his desk. The woman nodded and sat down. "What's your name?"

"Whimsy," the girl said, her voice soft but taut. "Whimsy Walker. It's nice to see you, Elder Bespoke."

Whimsy. He'd heard that name before.

"Please, just call me Ghastly," the tailor requested, feeling a need to be friendly towards her for some reason. "How can I help you, Miss Walker?"

"Umm, it's just Whimsy. I… I need your help with… trying to… How do I put this? My brother's in prison, and… they won't let me see him, not even when I call ahead. It's been almost a year, and… I'm really worried. He's not replied to any of my letters, or called me, and… I think something happened to him."

As she spoke, she grew visibly upset to the point where she was blinking back tears, and Ghastly felt his heart go out to her.

Whimsy carried on, her voice strained, "I thought that… that maybe… maybe you'd be willing to help. You knew him, and… I know you were friends once, so… could you at least make a call? Ask them to let me see him? Please, I'm really worried about him."

"Of course," Ghastly said, ready to go and find the file that contained all the contacts for Ireland's gaols. "What's the name of the gaol?"

"Shelainn Gaol," Whimsy replied quietly.

"And your brother's name?"

"Erskine Ravel."


	30. ANNOUNCEMENT - REWRITE

**Hey guys! Been a while, agh!**

 **So, yeah... this isn't an update. It's an announcement. I've decided to rewrite this story. Looking back on it, I feel like I could write it better now. Particularly the romance and how I've written Clarity. I'm leaving this old version up for people to look back, but I'm marking it as complete and starting up a new file. Hopefully you guys will still enjoy it.**

 **Sincerely,  
Howl**

 **Also, who's hyped for SPX?! AIEEE! :D**


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